


this world is not made for you

by valynsake



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Asgard (Marvel), Asgardian Culture (Marvel), Daggers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loki - Freeform, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Thor: The Dark World Compliant, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Female Character, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Present Tense, Protective Loki (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suspense, Violence, Whump, doesn’t really fall into a specific timeline, not necessarily factually accurate, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valynsake/pseuds/valynsake
Summary: “I am a god,” he reminds me. “I am not someone you want as your enemy.” His hand is unwavering as he holds the dagger to my throat.I lean closer to him, forcing the tip of his blade to draw a drop of blood from my neck. “That may be true,” I say. “But you would do well to remember that you are still just a prince. I am a queen.”
Relationships: Loki & Odin & Thor (Marvel), Loki & Odin (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki/Thor (Marvel), Malekith (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Odin & Thor (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. they’re dying to stop you

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! this is my first fic so any constructive criticism or compliments are greatly appreciated! also, let me know what you guys would like to see moving forward. i’m working really hard right now to get each chapter out as quickly as possible, so bear with me :)  
> this fic doesn’t really fit into the mcu timeline per say, but i would say that it takes place after the dark world and before ragnorak. but we’ll pretend that loki never ‘died’ in the dark world haha, because he’s going to be a pretty big part of this fic ;) this leaves us with no frigg, a dead malekith, and a living odin  
> if i’m being honest, the logistics of this might be a little bit of a mess, so just try to enjoy the fic and not focus too much on the details! i did do a little research into Alfheim and the Light Elves in hopes of being as accurate as possible, though.  
> kudos and comments would be amazing! enjoy :)  
> also i realize this chapter is insanely short, i’m just trying to test the waters and see if you guys like the idea! another chapter will be out shortly !

My name is Rina Featherwine. My mother chose that name for its rough elvish translation; ‘the crowned one’. I guess that’s fitting, since she died a month ago and left me as Queen of Alfheim.

I’m still young- too young to rule a nation, and much too young to be an orphan. My father was Malekith, ruler of the dark elves. While he may have been my relative biologically, I have no allegiances to him or sympathies for what he tried to accomplish. He was defeated by the Asguardian prince, Thor, but that was long after he abandoned my mother and me. Sometimes, I worry that a part of his evil was passed on to me, like some sort of hereditary trait. I can see the darkness in myself from time to time, and I’ve never been darker than right now.

Because I’m lost without her. Queen Aelsa Featherwine was the fairest and most noble leader our world has ever seen, and she led Alfheim the same way she mothered me: with love and compassion. I loved her with everything I had, but in the end, my love wasn’t strong enough to protect her from the sickness that killed her. She was sick for only a few weeks before the aggressive disease ravaged her body and stole her life away. No one had seen anything like it before.  
She never stood a chance.

My coronation took place exactly one week after she died. The whole nation bared witness to the reciting of the vows and the crown being placed on my head. At nine-hundred-seventy-eight years old, I was officially the youngest sovereign ruler of our world. Some of our people were thrilled to have a fresh pair of legs take the crown on. But most were outraged. I’m only half Light Elf. The other part of me comes straight from the Dark World, Svartalfheim, from the worst Dark Elf in history. My short rule has been controversial, and not only on our world.

Tensions with Asgard have been running high since I took the throne. They’ve always been our ally, but then again, that was always when a pure-blooded Light Elf wore the crown. With me as Queen, our alliance has been strained. My advisors tell me that it’s crucial that I set this right- Asgard would make a powerful enemy, and we can’t afford to lose their protection. I agree that they would make a powerful enemy, but I don’t necessarily think that we’re so weak that we need their protection. The Light Elves are a powerful race. We possess superhuman strength, speed, stamina, durability, agility, and reflexes. On top of that, every Light Elf is naturally proficient at archery and most other forms of combat. I believe that we are strong enough to protect ourselves, but my advisors have assured me that if relations are not repaired between Alfheim and Asgard, I could lose what little respect my people have left for me.

That leaves me at this morning, where I stand in front of my mirror, mentally preparing myself for the days that will follow.

———

My glossy brown hair is loose around my shoulders, which is a rarity in my case. Most days, it’s pulled up tightly in complex braids to keep it out of my face. The only times I get to let it just fall naturally is when I sleep, and for a short while once I wake up. I stroke it with my fingers, my hands gliding through the soft ringlet curls like they’re made of water. Its colour compliments my hazel eyes nicely, and my pale skin stands out against its darkness. I tuck the strands behind my ears, revealing the slight pull at the top of my ear that forms the elf-identifying point.

I sigh and turn away from the glass, sitting on the edge of my bed. I stroke the white silk sheets gently, their soft texture wonderful on my skin. My room is more grand than I would have preferred, but I guess I couldn’t have expected any less from the queen’s chambers. Big golden curtains drape the floor-to-ceiling windows, their fabric some rare, expensive material that shimmers even in the dark. The ceilings are high and decorated with intricate and colourful murals that tell the greatest stories of our world. My bed is much too big for one person, made with the dreamy sheets and covered with a tall canopy from which sheer, golden sheets hang. I could pull them closed to provide some privacy while I sleep, but no one ever comes in here unannounced, so they remain open most times.

My favourite feature of my extravagant room is the balcony. Each of the many windows lining the wall open as doors to reveal the large outdoor space, bordered with a railing made of the same white marble as the floor and the rest of the palace. From up there, I can see the whole city. All of the glittering lights during the night and the bustling people during the day. The mountains in the distance are crystal clear from there. I can also just make out the ocean, with it’s blue waves and white shores.

A strange feeling always overcomes me when my eyes settle on the ocean. It’s the home of the Sea Elves, and they’re the tribe that is most against my reign. Thousands of years ago, the majority of their people were massacred by Malekith. Although I wasn’t even born then, I’m still his daughter. And somehow, they hate me for his crimes. The Sea Elves are one of the main reasons I’m making the journey to Asgard today. If I don’t restore the alliance between our worlds, I’ll lose their tribe altogether.

A flare of pain arcs through my chest at the thought of going to Asgard to make things right. _Just breathe_ , I tell myself. _You have to do this_. _There is no other way_. But my reassuring words have little effect.

I know that everything will be fine. All I have to do is convince the Asgardian royal family that I’m nothing like my father, and that I’ll be a good and fair leader. I know that it won’t be hard. But what if they don’t believe me? What if they see the same darkness in me that they saw in my father?

I stand abruptly, suddenly jittery. My feet pace around the room while my head spins, filled with all the ways that this could go wrong. What if I say something wrong and anger Odin? Would we really be strong enough to defend ourselves against Asgard if we needed to? What if the only way to make things right is to give up the throne?  
I sink to my knees in front of the mirror, panic clouding around me. _Breathe_ , I command myself again. _You can’t help anyone if you’re hysterical_. I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself with the familiar motion.

What bothers me most of all is that I don’t even want this. Sure, there are no drawbacks to having Asgard as an ally. But I think some prideful part of me doesn’t want to travel all the way there just to beg for their affections.

I lock eyes with myself in the mirror and sigh. “You owe this to mom,” I whisper.

Her image comes back to me. Tall and gorgeous and full of life. Withered and gray and struggling to breathe. Yes, I do owe it to her. Ruling Alfheim was the greatest triumph of her life. The least I can do is try to honour and preserve her legacy.

A soft knock sounds at the door. My handmaidens, come to prepare me for the journey. I draw a deep breath and stand, smoothing out my light blue nightgown. I clear my throat. “Come in.”


	2. the sun will be guiding you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rina makes the journey to Asgard, but her fear grows with each moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies :) thank you for everyone that read the last chapter, i appreciate each and every one of you!  
> this will be the last exposition-oriented chapter, i promise...we’ll be getting into the good stuff soon, so hold tight!  
> i hope you guys enjoy this chapter, any kudos or comments would mean the world !!

“Your carriage is arriving, ma’am,” Aldon says. 

I turn to him and nod. Aldon was my mother’s most trusted advisor, and her good friend. I know he was crushed when she passed, so I figured the least I could do was let him keep his job. He goes everywhere with me to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing and start an intergalactic war, which frankly, is not entirely unlikely with me as queen. He’s been a lifesaver so far, and he’ll be accompanying me to Asgard.

I turn back to Idril. “Everything will be alright. I’ll only be gone for a little while, and I trust that you’ll keep us from going to war until I return.”

My lady-in-waiting nods. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.” A small smile lights up her sea green eyes. “Just try to stay out of trouble, alright?”

I laugh. “I promise.”

“And try not to fall in love with Prince Thor. I hear he’s absolutely dreamy.”

My eyes widen. “Idril!” I exclaim, but my embarrassment quickly fades back into laughter. “You don’t have to worry about that. Falling in love is about that last thing on my mind.”

She grins. “If you say so.” The distinct clopping of hooves sounds from the pavilion. 

“Well,” I say, “my ride awaits.”

Idril leans in and gives me a tight hug. “Be safe.”

I wrap my arms around her, comforted by her embrace. Since I have no children, Idril is my choice for an heir to the throne in case of an untimely death on my part. It’s funny; Idril has always had the most to gain by my failure, but she has only ever been loyal and helpful. I’ve come to love her like a sister, and it stings to have to leave her, even for a moment. “I will.”

“Hurry home.”

“I will.” 

She pulls away and smiles once more, dipping low in a curtesy. “Goodbye, my lady.”

“Goodbye, Idril.” I turn towards the stairs, seeing the golden carriage pulled by two white stallions awaiting me on the interlock below. A palace guard offers his arm to me, and I take it with a smile. I would normally refuse, but my heels are particularly high today, and I would hate to take a tumble down the stairs. They are quite lovely, though- sparkly gold with straps that cross over each other and wrap all the way up to my mid-thighs.They match the golden necklace that hugs my throat, and both accessories compliment the green of my dress beautifully. Idril picked out my gown, and I have to say that I was quite pleased with her choice. This is the dress that I will wear upon my arrival on Asgard, and I’m sure it will make an impression.

The top of the gown is built like a corset, hugging my slender waist and accentuating what little curves I have. It’s sleeveless, and the skirt has only a few layers of tulle underneath. It poofs out a little bit, but nothing too dramatic. Simple, yet beautiful. 

Half of my hair is pulled back in twin braids, secured with a golden pin that’s decorated with delicate, shimmering leaves. The rest of my hair falls around my shoulders in its natural ringlets. My status is announced by the diamond-studded crown on my head, secured in place by more leafy pins. I’m pleased with the way I look. To be overly extravagant would look like I’m trying to prove something, but to underdo it would be saying that the Asgardians aren’t worth my effort. I’m somewhere in the middle, which leaves me looking perfectly appropriate for the occasion.

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I say a silent thank you that I was able to stay upright. Aldon opens the carriage door, and the palace guard helps me step inside before he finally lets go of my arm. “Thank you,” I say to him with a smile. He nods, and closes the door gently behind me.

The inside of the carriage is decorated similarly to the palace- lots of gold and white decor, with small murals on the roof and plush velvet seats. Aldon steps into the carriage on the other side, sliding into the seat across from me. The carriage shudders, and I can feel the horses begin to carry us away.

“How are you feeling today, my queen?” Aldon asks, his blue eyes glittering.

“Very well. Thank you, Aldon.”

“Are you nervous?”

I purse my lips. “A little,” I admit. “I’m afraid I’m no good at fancy ordeals. I wouldn’t put it past me to say the wrong thing or act unladylike.”

Aldon smiles. “You are perfectly ladylike, ma’am. And there’s no reason to be afraid. I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

“That makes me feel better,” I say. “But I must admit, I may be too much for even you to handle.”

Aldon laughs, shooing away my comment with his hands. “Nonsense. You’re an angel compared to your mother. That elf really knew how to raise my blood pressure.”

“Oh, I know,” I giggle. “I’ve heard all the stories. She could be quite a handful at times, couldn’t she?”

“More than a handful,” he laughs. His expression darkens with a twinge of sadness. “I do miss her, though.”

I sigh. “Me too.” A silence hangs in the air for a moment. “So,” I say, changing the subject. “What am I to expect once we arrive?”

Aldon seems glad to be moving on from the topic of my dead mother. “Ah, yes! Well, the Asgardians have informed me that there will be some celebratory festivities upon our arrival. There will be a ball tonight where you’ll meet the royal family and some of their closest friends. And tomorrow, you’ll get a chance to meet the Asgardian people. We’ll be staying at the castle, and all you have to do is make a good impression on the king. It shouldn’t be too hard. I hear he’s quite friendly.”

I smile, hoping to hide some of my fear. It isn’t the mention of festivities that sets me off. In fact, whole festivals or feasts are not uncommon when royalty visits someplace. But the thought of having to convince the king that I want his help even though I couldn’t care less… it makes my heart race.

We ride the rest of the way in silence, each taking in the scenery around us. We’re riding to the region of the Air Elves to acquire the royal spacecraft so we can make the journey to Asgard. The Air Elves don’t live far from the palace- just outside the city, in fact. We pass homes, stores, and town squares before we’re riding down a dirt road lined by cornfields. The Elves of the Vale, the farmers of our people, have such a beautiful region. Endless, golden fields, blue skies, and a serene silence that can only be described as absolute peace.

Eventually, the dirt road beneath us morphs into stone, and I know we’ve entered the region of the Air Elves. Their land is categorized by high-tech machinery and futuristic architecture. I think it stems from the fact that their main ambition is air travel, and the crafts that they make require some of the greatest minds in our world. Everyone here is incredibly intelligent and driven, and it can be a little bit intimidating. I remember visiting here often with my mother, and the sheer amount of wisdom and smarts that each person possessed always left me in awe. The things that they’ve been able to create are absolutely revolutionary. They produce some of our most valuable products, and the Air Elves actually played quite a big part in the development and construction of the palace.

I peek out the window, and am met by a world that has been plucked from a thousand years into the future. Machines of all different shapes and sizes fly through the air above us, dodging between giant, steel skyscrapers that glint in the sunlight. There’s an entire second layer of roads above our heads, leaving a whole other half of the city that seems like it’s underground. Shorter buildings line the roads down here, and thousands of vehicles bustle around the streets, making strange noises. It’s chaotic and wonderful, and I can’t help but smile.

People either notice the carriage or recognize me, because soon, there are crowds of people waving and shouting, desperate to get my attention. I smile widely and wave back, overwhelmed by the love of my people. It’s not often that I get to experience it lately, and I was beginning to forget how good it felt to be respected. The Air Elves generally don’t care that I’m half Dark Elf. They have no particular quarrel with Malekith, and I think that they’re smart enough to think with their heads instead of their hearts, and realize that I am not a product of my father’s wrongdoings.

It almost hurts when we enter the tunnel and the people and their shouts are left behind. We’re submerged in darkness for a minute, until light slowly begins to creep back into the world. Suddenly, I’m met by a blinding whiteness, and when my eyes regain their focus, I see that we’ve arrived.

The Air Center is at the very middle of the city, and it takes up multiple city blocks. It’s a massive building that stretches into the sky and has many floors below ground, as well. There are hundreds of levels above us, but we’re in the most notable part of the building. It’s a massive, industrial room filled with hundreds of aircrafts. Some are test models that are being developed, and others are personal vehicles that are stored here for safety reasons. The many vehicles leave me in awe, just like they always did. I guess I just can’t wrap my mind around how something so big could be pulled into the air with just a tiny propeller.

We pull through the room, and many of the workers and citizens murmur welcomes or wave politely. I eventually feel the carriage slow, until it reaches a gradual stop by the far back wall.

“Here we are,” Aldon says, stepping out of the carriage. He scurries around and opens my door for me, offering his arm to help me down. A short, young elf greets us, her long blond hair swaying in a ponytail. She drops into a curtesy. “Good morning, my lady,” she says to me. She turns to Aldon and gives him a polite nod. “Sir.”

“Hello, Lia. We are in need of the royal spacecraft. Would you mind opening the doors?”

Lia smiles. “Of course.” She looks absolutely giddy as she rushes over to a keypad on the wall and enters a long, complex code. I would imagine that it’s not everyday that she gets to see the royal spacecraft. She hits a green button, and the wall in front of us creaks loudly as it begins to shift. It slides to the side slowly, seemingly disappearing into nowhere. A much smaller, separate room is revealed, housing only a single aircraft that looks very underused but very well maintained. It’s a large, white sphere, with a glossy exterior and two large, flat wings that extend to either side. The wings are designed to resemble those of a feathered bird, and as I step closer, I can see the gorgeous golden designs that are engraved on the ship.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Lia says timidly. “But I can’t open the door for you. It’s designed to only be opened by someone of the royal bloodline.”

I nod. “Not to worry, Lia. I can open my own door,” I joke. She seems surprised at my comment, as if a queen doing something for herself is a foreign idea, but her shock fades quickly and is replaced with a polite smile.

I remember my mother doing this whenever we would board the spacecraft to visit other worlds. I raise my hand in front of me, placing it gently against the cool surface. At first, nothing happens. But then, the white and gold exterior begins to glow bright yellow where my fingers lay, bordering my hand in the strange, amber light. After a few seconds, the glow turns green, and a door glides seamlessly open, revealing a way into the ship. I smile.

“Thank you, Lia,” I say.

She nods. “Good luck, my lady.”

Aldon and I step into the spacecraft, which is blatantly simple in it’s design. There are about ten large compartments carved into the walls, made with plush mattresses and luscious covers. On the floor, there’s another bed, but of much grander design. It’s similar to mine back home, with golden sheets hanging from a tall canopy to provide privacy, and soft, silken sheets. That bed must be for the king and queen, and the other bunks must be for any of their travel companions.

Beside the bed lies my abundant luggage, filled with the many gowns I’ll wear during my time on Asgard. If I’m being honest, I’d be perfectly happy in a pair of pants and a tunic, but royalty requires extravagance.

The whole front of the ship is see-through, and I remember my mother telling me once that it was similar to a two-way mirror. No one could see in from the outside, but the pilot has no trouble seeing the world outside. A sleek white chair juts out from the floor, right in front of a complex-looking control panel. Aldon slips right into the chair and begins to press buttons.

“You should get some rest, my queen. Asgard is only a few hours away. We’ll be there by the time you awaken.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“I’m going to pilot the ship.”

“Oh,” I say, slightly embarrassed. Of course he’s going to pilot the ship. We can’t very well expect the ship to predict where we need to go. I decide to take his advice, lying down gently on the bed so I don’t ruin my hair or wrinkle my dress. I’m pleasantly surprised to find that this bed feels almost exactly like the one I sleep in each night.

Aldon presses a few more buttons, and suddenly, the aircraft begins to rise. I watch as we levitate upwards, floating towards the sky above. We begin to pick up speed, the walls slipping past us faster and faster until we burst from the top of the building, a section of the roof opened just for us. We hover in the sky for a moment, Aldon slapping a few more buttons. What looks like a steering wheel pops out from the control panel, and Aldon grabs hold. He tilts the wheel and we zip forwards, zooming towards Asgard. Towards the source of my fear.

I try to force myself to breathe. _Everything is going to be fine. This is the only way._ But those words are useless, and the only thought that ends up lulling me to sleep is knowing that wherever my mom is, she’s proud of me.

———

“Ma’am.” A hand gently shakes my shoulder. “Ma’am, it’s time to wake up.”

I open my heavy lids, pushing against the instinct to drift back into oblivion. “Aldon?” I ask, my blurry vision fighting to focus on his form.

I make out his smile as I blink repeatedly. “Yes, my lady. It’s Aldon.”

My body finally comes back to this world, and I sit up, yawning and stretching my limbs. “What’s going on?” It takes me a moment to remember that we’re on the ship, floating through space. All I can see is the infinite blackness speckled with stars, and it blossoms a curiosity in me. “Weren’t you supposed to wake me when we’ve arrived?”

Aldon’s eyes gleam. “We have.” He turns a dial on the control panel, and the ship rotates ever so slightly forward. The movement reveals the top of a planet, glowing with colour and bursting with life. Blue oceans cover most of the sphere, and the portions of land are full with green life. The atmosphere surrounding Asgard seems to shimmer with rainbow colours, like oil on water. I’ve only seen the bifrost in action once, but the sight instantly bears a connection. 

Despite my nervousness, I can’t help but smile. While I still prefer my home planet, there’s no denying that Asgard is a rare beauty. Even if everything goes horribly wrong, I’ll still be pleased to be able to see this planet once again. The last time I was here must have been six hundred years ago, when my mother and I visited to celebrate Odin’s five-hundred-thousandth birthday. If nothing else, this trip will allow me to relive a fond memory I have with my mother.

“Entering the atmosphere,” Aldon announces, and the ship launches forward. I lose balance for a moment, stumbling slightly before I regain my footing. Aldon whips around, apologizing profusely, but I shush him.

“It’s alright, Aldon. I’m alright.” I pull my skirt a few inches off the ground, studying my heels. “It’s just these shoes,” I say with a laugh. “I’m still getting used to them.”

Aldon sighs with relief. He grabs hold of the wheel more gently this time, pushing it slowly forwards. I grip my bedpost to steady myself, but the launch is much more calm this time. I can see the glow of flames clinging to the outside of the ship as we break the atmosphere, zooming towards the ground.

I quickly turn to the small mirror on the wall beside one of the bunks, checking my appearance before we land. I would be mortified if my hair was frizzy or my eyes were puffy from sleep. But I still look done up and radiant, and my nerves calm a little. At least my first appearance won’t be a complete embarrassment.

“Touching down,” Aldon calls, and a new wave of fear washes over me. I peer skeptically out the window, and am greeted by a golden city and thousands of cheering people. 

The palace stands out among the other buildings- massive and extravagant, with pointed roofs and what must be hundreds of rooms. The city is lush and busy as people bustle around the streets, some minding their business, others preparing for the festivities, and more still gawking at our ship as it lands.

We touch down on the ground with a soft thud. I force down the fear that threatens to suffocate me, steeling myself so I can at least appear to be calm and regal.

“Are you ready, my queen?” Aldon asks.

My heart picks up pace. “I don’t know,” I say softly, some of my nerves creeping into my voice despite my best efforts.

Aldon steps into my line of vision, ducking his head so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

I smile weakly. “I just think I’m not cut out for this. Leading, forming alliances, stopping wars...these are all things she was supposed to teach me. But she never got the chance.”

Aldon hesitates for a moment before he reaches out and clasps my hand in his, abandoning the traditional formalities. “You are exactly who she taught you to be. She may not have had time to show you everything about being queen, but she prepared your heart. You want what is best for your people, and that is something I know she would be proud of.”

_You’re wrong,_ I think. _I’m not here because I believe it’s what’s best for my people. I’m here because I don’t want to lose their loyalty._ But I smile all the same, squeezing his hand gratefully. “Do you really think she would be proud?”

He nods. “I know it.”

I draw a deep breath. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Excellent,” he says, stepping over to the control panel. I can hear the shouts of the Asgardians outside, impatiently awaiting my appearance. I smooth out my dress and straighten my crown, letting the regal mask slide over my features once again. Aldon presses a button, and the door to the outside slides seamlessly open. The shouts intensify until they’re all I can hear, and I’m blinded by the light of day.

  
  



	3. it’s time to run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon Rina’s arrival on Asgard, she begins to believe that this might be easier than she thinks. But a certain prince throws a wrench into her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m back! thank you to the people who left kudos or comments, it means so much :)  
> we’re getting into the good stuff now! i don’t want to spoil anything, but i’m excited to hear what you guys think of this chapter. kudos and comments are appreciated!!

“Queen Rina, over here!”

“Your Majesty!”

“Welcome, your highness!”

The shouts are endless and impossibly loud. It’s a big adjustment from Alfheim, where I’m tolerated by most and politely curtsied to out of fear. The people here love me. Royal guards are holding the crowds back, but hundreds of people are dying to shake my hand or have a word with me. The large smile comes effortlessly to my face, and my timid waves quickly escalate into broad gestures. 

Aldon and I are escorted by a possy of guards decked out in full golden armour and spears, but I get the feeling that the weapons are more of a ceremonial gesture. A long walkway has been cleared of people leading straight from our ship to the castle, but the sidelines are packed with hoards of citizens who throw roses and cheer my name.

It’s euphoric.

I shake a few hands that manage to reach particularly far past the guards, and call out my own greetings to the Asgardians. I keep a winning smile plastered on my face, hoping to already start drawing in the favour of the king by winning over his people.

A little girl shouts somewhere to my left, but I can instantly hear that it’s out of fear, not excitement. I search the crowds for her, coming to rest on her small form cowering low to the ground, nearly being trampled by the much larger people around her. I start towards her without hesitation.

“My lady!” Aldon warns. I appreciate his concern- surely it’s not safe for me to be so close to a mob this rambunctious- but the little girl continues to cry out in fear, and the sound draws me in like an unstoppable force.

I reach the edge of the crowd where she hides, her cheeks wet with tears. An Asgardian guard holds up a hand to me when he realizes I mean to move into the crowd. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t let you get too close. It’s for your own safety.”

I nod. “I understand. But that girl is in trouble,” I explain. The guard follows my eyes to the crying girl, and he instantly tenses.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Back up! Give the girl some space!” The crowd parts at his harsh words, moving away from her small body. Her hands stay firmly placed over her ears, and her eyes stay trained on the ground. I step forwards, the people forming a wide arc around her and I.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Are you alright?”

Either the sudden drop in the volume of the crowd or my shadow moving into her line of sight gets her attention. Her eyes lift slowly to me, and they widen quickly once she recognizes my face. She stands abruptly, breathing fast. Her tiny legs drop into a hasty curtsy. “My apologies, Queen Featherwine.” Her voice trembles slightly with the remnants of her tears.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” I crouch in front of her, cupping her chin gently in my hand so she meets my eyes. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head furiously. “No. No ma’am. Your Highness. Your Majesty,” she corrects, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. 

I smile and drop my hand. “Rina is perfectly fine,” I say, then lower my voice and lean in as if we’re sharing a secret. “That’s what my friends call me.”

Her expression remains shocked for a moment longer before she smiles shyly. “We’re friends?” she asks quietly.

I rise and grab her hand. “Of course.” I lead her away from the crowds and to the center aisle, into the protection of the guards. “Where are your parents?” I ask her.

She frowns. “I got separated from them when everyone started cheering. I don’t know…” 

“Sivan!” a woman shouts above the noise. “Sivan! Where are you?”

The little girl, Sivan, draws her brows. “Mom?” She turns to the crowd, and a woman jumps higher than most, waving her arms frantically. She shares the same aquiline nose and dark features as Sivan. The girl notices her, and smiles widely. “Mom!”

The woman rushes towards the guards, who stop her protectively. “It’s alright,” I tell them. “Let her through.” The guards obey, and the woman dashes forwards. She stops short of her daughter, remembering herself and bows respectively. “Your Majesty.”

“Please,” I say. “There’s no need for that.”

She looks up at me, shocked at my informality, but she takes her chance to embrace her daughter. “Sivan,” she chastises, but there’s no anger in her voice. If anything, her words are dripping in concern. “I was so worried.”

I’m not oblivious to the watching eyes in the crowd, observing our interaction in earnest. “I’m sorry, Mom,” Sivan says. 

Her mother sighs. “Let’s go home,” she says softly, and Sivan nods. Her mother stands, clutching her daughter’s hand tightly. “Thank you,” she says to me, wearing an expression that’s an even mix of caution and gratefulness.

I smile. “It was no problem.” I look down to Sivan. “Stay safe,” I say, and she nods, a massive grin on her face. With that, I turn back to Aldon, continuing our walk to the palace. The people cheer even louder after seeing my interaction with Sivan. As we walk, Aldon leans in close to my ear.

“See? You’re already making a good impression,” he whispers.

I consider his words. Yes, I suppose helping a child in danger does make me look good. It would have been a good strategic move, but I didn’t plan to do that for some advantage or to make the king like me. I did it because she was in danger, and I wanted to help her. _Because it was the right thing to do_. I smile. Maybe there’s less darkness in me than I had feared.

I keep walking towards the palace, my head held a little higher.

———

“Your room, Queen Rina,” a servant says. She’s tall and beautiful, her black hair held back by a golden band and a dress of the same material making her shine. She opens the door for me and backs away, gesturing towards the room.

“Thank you,” I say. She bows respectfully and then hurries off, probably to tell her friends all about her interaction with the queen. I walk slowly into the room, taking in the grand architecture as I go. It’s very different from my palace back home- much more industrial than mine. On Alfheim, we decorate everything with lively plants and shimmering fabrics. The ceilings are softly arched and the colour schemes are always bright. Here on Asgard, everything is more angular and toned down, with the main materials used to build the palace being stone and gold metals. 

Even so, my room is incredible. The bed is bigger than even my already over-sized one back home, and instead of white sheets, this bed is made with a golden fabric that looks heavenly. A hearth burns in the middle of the room, flickering in a stone bowl that’s raised on a pedestal. It’s glow casts light across the room, making strange shadows that dance on the walls. A few chairs and couches are scattered around the fire, their red velvet soft to the touch.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the balcony, large and open to the outdoors. Small arched doorways line the balcony, but their frames hang empty, leaving easy access to the view. I start forwards to catch a glimpse of the city, and hear someone clear their throat behind me.

My eyes widen as I turn, seeing the two male servants who accompanied me up the stairs still struggling to hold all of my luggage. “Sorry to bother you,” the taller of the two says. 

“No, no,” I say, rushing over. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot you were here!” I look around the room, seeing a large open area beside my massive bed. “You can just drop those over there,” I say, gesturing to the spot.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the other servant says. They place my many trunks down gently and neatly, then turn back to me. “Will that be all, Your Highness?”

“Actually,” I say, “there is one more thing.” They nod in sync, ready for my request. “Would you be able to tell me which room my advisor, Aldon, is staying in?”

“Ah, yes,” the taller servant says. “If you turn right out of your room, he’s just three doors down.”

I smile. “Thank you, mister…”

“Koll,” he finishes. “And this is Bram.” The shorter servant smiles.

“Well, nice to meet you,” I say.

They both seem a little surprised at my kindness. “It’s...very nice to meet you as well, Your Majesty.”

“Rina,” I correct.

Bram draws his brows. “I’m sorry, ma’am?”

“Please, call me Rina,” I clarify. “I was never much of a stickler for formalities.”

They both smile. “With all do respect,” Koll says, “I think you deserve the formalities, Your Highness.” They both bow politely, then walk briskly out. 

I smirk, delighted by their chivalry. It’s refreshing and foreign, and it fills my chest with warmth. 

The trip to Asgard was nerve wracking and exhausting in itself, and now that I’m here, I’m glad to have the day to myself until the ball this evening. I sit down on one of the velvet couches, immediately racing to remove my shoes. I unlace the straps and slip them off, sighing with the instant relief my toes get once they’re free. I place the shoes beside the couch and stand, feeling much steadier and much more like myself.

I step out onto the balcony, rejuvenated and calmed by the warm breeze. The fresh air feels like magic, and the wondrous city so far below tugs the corners of my mouth upwards into a small smile.

I stay there for hours, enchanted by the Asgardian world.

———

“How do I look?”

Aldon considers this, studying my hair and dress. He draws a circle with his finger and I obey, spinning slowly so he can get a full look at my outfit. The gown I chose is jet black, covered with a layer of tiny, glittering stones that catch the light and throw sparkles into the air. It reminds me of the night sky, the way the stars glow against the infinite darkness of space. The neckline plunges to the bottom of my sternum, but the bodice is tight against my skin, so I’m not worried about anything slipping. It’s sleeveless, but the straps are thick, stretching from the edge of my shoulders to the base of my neck. The skirt flares out from my waist, creating the traditional, voluminous ball gown look. I wear no necklace, but my raindrop-shaped earrings match the glimmering silver of the stones on my dress. My hair is completely loose in it’s curls around my shoulders, with a diamond tiara resting on my head.

“It’s perfect,” Aldon finally says. “Confident, yet conservative. You look beautiful.”

“Really?” I say as I turn my body to make the dress sparkle. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

Aldon laughs. “My lady, this is Asgard. Their servants are dressed in gold and their sheets are weaved of the precious metal. I don’t think you can do too much.”

I sigh. “You’re right,” I say, trying to banish the nerves from my body.

“Are you ready?”

_Deep breaths, Rina. You can do this._ “Yes.”

He smiles and holds out his arm. “Then let’s not keep the Asgardians waiting.” I slip my arm into his, trying to draw from his steadiness. We start the walk towards the ballroom, and I’m grateful I chose a much shorter heel for this evening’s event. I don’t think I would have been able to waltz in those death traps I wore earlier. As we get closer, I start to hear the music faintly, and the sound forms a lump in my throat.

_Everything will be fine. This is the only way._ I swallow the lump, trying desperately to internalize my words.

_Your mother would be proud._

That would be true, I realize, if she thought I was here to protect my people. But would she be proud if she knew I was only here to protect myself?

I guess I’ll never know, since she’s gone and I’m at the grand doors to the Asgardian ballroom, about to make either the best decision or the biggest mistake of my life. There’s no more time to rethink my choices, no more time to run. Aldon’s arm is slipping from mine, and I can’t remember why I ever thought this was a good idea. The guards are grabbing the massive handles, and I can’t take it back. The doors are opening, and I can’t breathe.

_I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe_

A short man in golden armour stands just inside the door, surveying the bustling ballroom. Hundreds of dancing strangers mill around, the room bursting with colourful gowns and excited voices. A huge table stretches through the middle of the room, overflowing with food and drinks and surrounded by chairs. It’s just a party. Nothing special. You can do this. 

But it’s not just a party. It’s my future as queen. And I have to be perfect, or I’ll lose everything.

_I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t-_

The man in golden armour notices us, and I see the excitement flare in his eyes. “All rise for Queen Rina of Alfheim!” he shouts, and a hush falls over the room impossibly quickly, like the air has been sucked from everyone’s lungs. Their voices evaporate. Their movements cease. And their eyes…

Their eyes are all on me.

And there’s no more time to run.

I wish I was her. She was always so good at being queen. Always regal, always confident. She never hesitated and she never doubted herself. She would be able to do this so much better than me. She would walk right into the ballroom, head held high, without a second thought. Because she was born to be royal, she was destined to be a queen.

And somehow, some small part of me whispers a reminder. _So am I._

_Be regal. Be confident. You are a queen, Rina. Act like one._ I raise my chin, staring straight ahead at a point on the wall. If I look at anyone directly, I’ll crumble. And I have to at least pretend that I’m strong. My steps come surprisingly easily. One, two, three, four until I’m just inside the doors. I pause for a moment, and finally allow my gaze to move elsewhere. Their eyes are still glued to me like I’m the only thing in the room, but I don’t let it shake me. I sweep my gaze around the space, and then at last, I notice the royal family.

They’re almost obscured by the mountains of food on the table, but I can still make our their three distinct shapes. They’ve clearly been dressed to coordinate. Odin wears golden armour with a blue cape, a standard style for an Asgardian ball. His emotionless gaze is locked on me, and it makes my heart climb into my throat. Thor sits to his left, and his expression is easier to swallow. He looks kind and supportive, like he’s genuinely glad that I’m here. His silver armour and red cape mirror his father’s perfectly.

I can’t even begin to digest why Loki stares at me the way he does. I would almost describe it as hateful, but that isn’t a strong enough term. His eyes blaze through me, and the confrontational stare makes my mouth go dry. He’s dressed in black armour and a deep green cape. The three of them look good and proper for the occasion, but their conflicting expressions makes me think it would still be better to run.

But I can’t. There’s still hundreds of eyes on me and a deadly silence hanging in the air.

I bow slightly slightly to the king and his sons. “Thank you for having me,” I call out, my voice echoing painfully around the room. As if I couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, not a single soul moves at my words. I rise from my bow, exhaling a nervous breath. “Please,” I say with a smile that I have to force to look easy. “Enjoy the celebration.” 

That seems to do the trick, because the silence finally dissipates as the musicians pick up their songs and voices fill the air once again. I exhale shakily, fearing that I just ruined everything before it even began.

Aldon’s arm slips into mine once again. “That was great,” he says. I give him a doubtful look. “No, really,” he insists. “Perfectly queen-like.”

“I think that was probably the most awkward thirty seconds in Asgard’s history,” I complain. “And I’m pretty sure Prince Loki wants me dead.”

Aldon looks horrified. “Why do you say that? You haven’t even talked to him.”

I nod. “True, but he gave me a look that clearly meant that he wanted me to drop dead.”

Aldon clicks his tongue. “Nonsense. That’s just his face.”

I purse my lips to hold in my laugh, reigning in the urge to snort in a very unladylike way. “Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

Aldon nods. “Good. Now go mingle! This ball is for you.”

I draw a deep breath. “Right.” I don’t tell Aldon how nervous making small talk with strangers from another planet makes me, but he’s known me long enough that I’m sure he already knows. Even so, he pulls his arm from mine and gestures towards the crowds. “Mingle,” he commands.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re not the one who gives orders in this relationship.”

Aldon laughs, then mocks a bow. “My apologies, Your Majesty.” He walks away still smiling, making his way towards a group of people who must be his old friends, because they all explode into cheers of joy when they see him.

I turn away, putting my queen face back on and tilting my head up ever so slightly. I begin to drift into the crowd, giving friendly smiles and small nods to people as I pass. It’s a completely different atmosphere than when I got off the ship. I can still feel that the people in this room respect me, but it’s a much more tame respect. There are no roses being thrown at my feet, but I can still tell that the people in this room are excited to be in my presence.

_Talk to someone, Rina. You’re starting to look awkward._ My nodding and smiling isn’t going to be enough for much longer. Soon, I’ll have to actually engage with someone. I stop at the head of the table, pretending to take interest in some grapes. I purse my lips and look around subtly. There’s a short, curvy woman cackling within a group to my right. She looks extroverted enough to carry a good conversation. Then again, the tall, lean man standing alone to my left seems like he would make a much calmer confident. On the other hand, the group of young girls sneaking glances at me might be pleased if I were to walk over. _Just pick someone. Anyone._

“I absolutely despise small talk,” I mumble under my breath.

“Me too,” a low voice rumbles beside me. My eyes fly up, catching the gleam in Prince Thor’s eyes as he grins.

My eyes widen in horror. “Prince Thor.” I curtsy hastily. “I didn’t realize anyone could hear me. I didn’t mean to offend you.” My words are rushed and nervous, and I can tell this only humours him more.

“Not to worry,” he laughs. “You haven’t offended me. I also despise small talk.”

I exhale with relief. “Well, good. I was worried you might go tell your father that I don’t like his party.”

He raises his brows. “You don’t like the party?”

I blush furiously. “No! It’s great. The part is lovely. You did such a wonderful job. The food is great. Great party,” I ramble, knowing I’m sinking deeper with each word. I let my eyes flit back to his expression, expecting a disapproving glare. But the light in his blue eyes and the tight line of his mouth tell me all I need to know. 

He’s trying not to laugh. 

My mouth drops open and I push his arm lightly. “You’re not mad at all, are you? You just like watching me embarrass myself.”

His smile breaks. “It is quite amusing.”

I laugh. “I’m glad my humiliation amuses you.”

“Immensely.”

I shake my head. “I thought you’d be more proper. You’re pretty immature for a prince.” I bite my tongue, worried I’ve gone too far, but he throws his head back in laughter.

“That, we can agree on.” He reaches over and grabs two empty glasses, setting one down in front of each of us. He pours us each a half glass of wine from the bottle of red in front of us, and from the slightly glazed look in his eyes, I would guess it’s probably his third or fourth. He lifts his glass, and I do the same.

“To forming a beautiful alliance,” he says. I smile and clink his glass with mine, hoping his tipsy words reveal some of the truth. Are they willing to take me on as an ally? We both take a sip, his much larger than mine. I’m surprised by the flavour as it bursts over my tongue. It’s not like any wine we have on Alfheim. Thor must notice my expression, because he grins. “Delicious, isn’t it?”

I nod. “I’m not much of a wine drinker, but this is exquisite.”

“It’s ten thousand years old.”

I nearly choke on my next sip. “Are you serious?”

He picks up the bottle and pours some more into his already empty glass. “My father is quite the wine enthusiast. He has thousands of bottles in our wine cellar from all different points in time. Some of them have been aging ten times as long as this.”

“That’s incredible,” I say in awe. “I only have a cabinet of wine back home. You have a whole cellar?” He nods. “Is it big?” I ask.

“Huge.” He smiles. “Would you like to see it?”

I laugh. “I’m a little tied up right now.”

He shakes his head with a smirk. “No, no. Tomorrow. Before we show you around the city, I can show you around the cellar.”

I smile, beginning to think that winning the favour of the royal family may not be all that hard. It might just take a little wine. “I’d like that.”

“Alright then,” he says. “I’ll send a guard for you in the morning.” He raises his glass to me, and we share another sip. As he reaches onto the table for some bread, a figure catches my eye behind him. Tall, dressed in black, burning holes straight through my head with his stare.

Loki.

That one might need a little more wine to become agreeable. We only share a brief glance before he looks away, stalking back into the crowd. I have no idea what I’ve done to offend him, but I need to remedy it quickly.

“Ladies and gentleman,” a voice calls, and the room grows quiet. “It is now time for the Queen’s Waltz. Everyone, grab a partner and make your way to the dance floor!”

I suck in a breath. I had forgotten for a moment that a ball usually consists of some dancing, and dancing requires a partner. My eyes dart around anxiously, looking for Aldon. I find him moving onto the floor, holding the hand of another woman. He makes eye contact with me, and I try to send my desperate plea through the air. He shakes his head, looking at something behind me.

“May I have this dance?” I turn and see Thor, his hand extended to me, and my nerves dissipate.

“Of course,” I say, sliding my hand into his.

He leads me to the dance floor, and my heart starts to pick up pace. It’s not the dancing that makes me nervous- I’ve done this dance a thousand times over the years. I know it inside and out. But I just know that everyone will be watching me, and that’s not something I think I’ll ever get used to.

We separate, Thor walking towards the far side of the room so we’re facing each other with a good ten feet of distance between us. We form two long lines, each pair split by the gap between us. The music starts, and the dance begins.

The steps come to me unconsciously, the movements engraved in my muscles after all this time. Step forwards, step back, spin, curtsy. Pause as the other side of the room responds. Walk forwards, closing the space between us. 

Thor grasps my right hand in his, and places his other on my waist. The touch makes my heart flutter, though I’m not sure why. My left hand settles on his shoulder, and he smiles down at me. “Ready?” he whispers.

I nod. “I could do this in my sleep.”

“Is that so?” And the music picks up pace, launching us into the dance. We glide across the floor, each step perfectly in time with the music and each other. Thor tries to throw me off, changing one of the moves or pausing to mess up the timing. But I match his movements and adapt easily, using my thousand years of dancing experience to keep me on my feet.

He looks impressed. “You are better than I expected.”

I try my best to appear offended. “You thought that I would be bad?”

“No, not bad,” he laughs. “Just not this good.”

I narrow my eyes. “Well, even though that's still kind of insulting, I’m going to take it as a compliment.”

We continue to spin, and even though I’m practically running on auto-pilot, I can tell we’re nearing the part of the dance where we switch partners. “Enjoy the rest of the dance,” he says. I barely have time to wonder who my new partner will be before his hands disappear, and I’m spinning towards them.

The world blurs around me as I spin, and right as I start to get dizzy, a new hand slips into mine and around my waist, steadying me. I take a split second to get my bearings, and once I do, the black breastplate in front of me becomes clear. My head snaps up, and I stare into the cold, unforgiving eyes of Loki.

_Wine, I need wine. Where’s the wine-_

My steps falter, but he pulls me back into the dance seamlessly. The silence between us is tangible as we dance, and all I can focus on is how different his expression is now that he’s so close. The hateful look has dissolved and been replaced with something almost happy. His mouth is curved in a slight smile, but his eyes betray him. 

He’s not happy. He’s putting on an act.

“Smile,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

His expression wavers back to hatred for a split second. “Smile.”

I force my face to remain expressionless. “Who do you think you are?”

“Your gracious host,” he says, and his fingers dig into my side. I would cry out or step away, if not for the warning look in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I whisper harshly. 

He smiles effortlessly, so to any onlookers, it looks as if we could just be having a friendly conversation. “Neutralizing a threat,” he says casually.

His words turn my blood cold. “I’m not a threat to you,” I assure him. “I’m here to make an alliance for the benefit of both of our people.”

His eyes meet mine, and there’s heat behind his stare. “Rina,” he says softly, and the way he uses my first name so informally without being given permission sparks an anger in me. “Don’t lie to me.” He suddenly pulls me closer, so our bodies are pressed together. He leans down so his mouth is right beside my ear. “I know,” he breathes.

My heart stops. “Know what?”

He laughs softly, but there’s no humour in it. “You have everyone fooled. They all think you’re here out of love for your people. They think you want what’s best for them. But I am the god of mischief. And I will not be fooled by your lies.”

_He knows he knows he knows_

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I whisper back. 

That cold laugh rakes my ear again. “Liar,” he says. “We both know you’re not here for your people. You’re only here for yourself.”

I set my jaw, the anger threatening to spill over. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin this alliance.”

There’s a moment of charged silence. “You’re right,” he whispers, the words tickling my ear. “I think I will.”


	4. the secret inside of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rina’s confidence had been shaken by the god of mischief.  
> But new developments give her some of that confidence back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! thank you all so much for reading and leaving kudos, you guys rock :)  
> i’m really excited for you guys to read this chapter, so be sure to let me know what you think!  
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated :)))

I know the music is still playing.

There would be no reason for it to suddenly stop. We’re still dancing- I can tell by the way my gown is twirling and my feet are gliding. There’s a hand holding mine and another around my waist, pulling me into the steps that my feet know so well. We’re still dancing, so the music must still be playing. But I can’t hear it.

All I can hear is the forceful pumping of my heart like thunder in my ears, and the horrible, high-pitched screeching that seems to materialize from nowhere to attack my eardrums.

Because _he knows._ I don’t know how, but somehow, he’s aware of my tainted motives. And now my one chance, my only chance to keep my crown, is lost. He knows, and the sharp look in his eyes told me everything.

There will be no alliance. Loki will make sure of that.

He slipped away at some point, whisked away by a new dance partner as I was swept up by mine. I haven’t looked for him, because I know if I meet his icy stare, I won’t be able to contain my panic.

_He knows he knows he knows_

It’s over. I’ve been here for less than a day, and already I’ve lost. There’s no way Odin will trust me over his own son. My reign has come to it’s horrible, flaming end, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

And then the dance is ending and my partner is bowing, thanking me for my time. And I’m dropping into an unconscious curtsy, my own gratitude spilling from my lips. A dazzling smile plastered on my face, hiding the explosion going on inside my head, drowning out the storm as it brews between my ears.

I know it’s over. The least I can do is appear calm and oblivious as Odin banishes me from his planet.

“Did Loki give you a hard time?”

I tense. “What?”

Thor steps around from behind me, holding yet another glass of wine. “He’s a dreadful dancer, isn’t he?” he laughs.

The fake laugh comes out of me almost too easily. In truth, I paid no attention to his dancing abilities. I was too focused on his threatening words and the heart attack that came with falling from the throne. “It’s as if he has two left feet,” I lie.

Thor laughs, a warm, delightful sound. His cheeks are flushed with colour, and he looks positively brilliant. _Idril was right,_ I think. _He is quite handsome._ But I was also right when I told her that romance was the last thing on my mind, and especially now that his brother is probably ratting me out to the king as we speak. “He has taken just as many lessons as me,” Thor says. “And yet somehow, he nearly tramples every dance partner he ever has.”

I giggle, and my eyes unconsciously sweep across the room, desperately searching for his green cape. “He wasn’t _that_ bad,” I say, growing more disconnected from our conversation by the second.

“You’re being generous,” Thor says.

I glance across the room again, forcing my gaze to move slower. “Maybe a little,” I say with a smirk. I can’t find him, and his disappearance is starting to fuel my panic. “Could I have another glass of that wine?” I say suddenly, craving the relief of alcohol flowing through my veins.

Thor doesn’t take notice of my outburst. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he says, and pours me a glass.

“Thanks,” I say, pulling the glass to my lips and downing it in one gulp. There are so many others dressed in black tonight. But not one of them is the prince I’m searching for.

Thor raises his eyebrows. “I was only joking, but was Loki’s dancing really that bad?” I blink, confused, and he gestures to my empty glass.

I laugh, shaking my head. “No, no. I just really like the wine. And this is a party, after all.” I wink at him, and he grins.

“In that case,” he says, pouring us each another glass. “To an exciting night!” We clink our glasses, and I’m reminded of our toast only an hour earlier. When I was so hopeful, so sure, that things were going to go my way.

_Tonight will be exciting,_ I think. _Just not in the way you’re expecting._

“Queen Rina,” a voice says behind me. Thor straightens a little as he sees who the voice belongs to, and my wine nearly comes back up. I turn slowly, and am met by the smiling face of King Odin.

_He knows he knows he knows_

I place my glass on the table and bow instantly. “King Odin,” I say, my head lowered. “It’s an honour, Your Majesty.” If I’m going to be banished, I may as well do so with respect, and keep his hatred for me to a minimum.

“Please,” he says, and I allow my gaze to meet his. “This may be my palace, but you are still a queen here.” He bows to me. “The honour is all mine.”

I slowly rise, my mind completely torn apart. He should be yelling at me, or calling his guards to escort me back to my ship. He shouldn’t be smiling or bowing, he should be _fuming_. At the very least, he should be looking at me with disappointment. But he’s not, and that’s when I know.

Loki didn’t tell him.

“I see you’ve met my son, Thor,” Odin says.

I smile, a new wave of confusion washing over me. “Yes. He makes a wonderful dance partner.”

The king smiles fondly at his son. “Ah, yes. I’ve gotten many compliments about his dancing tonight.” He nods towards my glass. “Are you enjoying the wine?”

I nod. “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

Thor laughs. “I would certainly say so.” He holds up the bottle. “She’s inhaled half of this bottle!”

My eyes widen, and I can feel the blush crawl up my throat. I give Thor an unbelieving look, but the king only laughs. “It’s alright, Queen Rina. The food and wine is here for you. I’m glad you are enjoying it.”

I sigh with relief. “Thank you, Your Highness. The party is wonderful.”

Odin nods. “I wanted to make sure your first Asgardian celebration was one to remember.”

“I’ll never forget this,” I say, gesturing to the room. “But this isn’t my first Asgardian party.” At Odin’s confused look, I clarify. “I came here once with my mother. For your birthday celebration.”

Odin raises his eyebrows. “Is that so? I must have forgotten.” He points to Thor. “So you two have met before, then?”

I shake my head in time with Thor. “I’m afraid not,” I say. “I was still quite young. My mother only let me stay for an hour before she sent me up to bed.”

“And I was much too intoxicated,” Thor says with a laugh. “I was sick all night long.”

Odin laughs lightly. “Oh, yes. I do remember that.” He reaches over to the table, pouring himself a glass of the delicious wine. “So then I assume you haven’t met my other son, Loki, either?”

A pang goes through my chest. “I didn’t see him that night, either,” I say. “But I danced with him tonight.”

Thor cackles. “Yes, he nearly trampled her with his horrible dancing!” Thor and his father share a laugh, and I begin to think that Loki’s dancing is somewhat of an inside joke. I may not have been paying much attention while we waltzed, but I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as they make it sound. Still, Odin's mention of Loki makes my panic fresh.

“Where is he, anyways?” I ask, looking around the room.

Odin waves his hand. “Oh, Loki never liked these events much. He’s probably slipped away by now. Speaking of which,” Odin looks at his son. “I’m afraid we’ll have to slip away for a little while, as well. Lord Runolf wishes to speak with us about the events on Midgard.” He doesn’t elaborate, but I know he means Thor’s battle with my father. Odin looks back at me. “Thank you for coming, Queen Rina. I hope to speak with you some more tomorrow.”

I bow my head. “I would like that very much, Your Majesty.”

He smiles. “Come along, Thor,” he says, and turns to leave. Thor moves to follow, looking back at me for a moment.

“Thank you for the dance,” he says, and although I know how much wine he’s consumed, I can see that he means it.

I smile. “Anytime.” With that, he disappears into the crowd with his father.

I turn back to the table, swallowing the rest of my wine. I can just feel the edges of my senses being dulled by the alcohol, but I welcome the feeling. 

I’ll need to lose some inhibitions if I’m going to confront the god of mischief.

———

The hallways are dark and silent, all of the life in the castle collected in the ballroom. A few torches burn along the walls, but shadows still hang in the air as I walk. My steps are silent with my shoes in my hand, and I cling to the walls, striving for invisibility as I walk.

He has to be somewhere in the palace, I’ve decided. He wouldn’t leave me completely unattended with his father if he’s so against this alliance. And if I wander the halls long enough, I’m sure he’ll find me.

My delicate ears pick something up around the corner. I slow my steps, flattening myself against the wall and straining my hearing.

Voices.

I will my breaths to come silently as I listen, closing my eyes so all my focus is on the sounds. I tuck my hair behind my ears, limiting any blockages to the noise.

“Because,” a gravelly voice says, “it’s too soon. Loki said he would tell us when it’s time.”

“But tonight is the perfect opportunity.” Another man’s voice. “No one will be paying any attention. Odin will be drunk. Thor will be passed out somewhere. There won’t be anyone to protect him.”

“Except _her,_ ” the first man hisses. “Don’t you remember what Loki said? She’ll be able to see through his illusions.”

“But she doesn’t even know what she is. How does he know that she’s a threat?”

There’s a pause. “We have to trust him. We owe him our lives, Alvi. If this is what he wants, we have to help him.”

“He’s been acting strange, Gris. What if he’s having second thoughts?”

“He’s not,” Gris says firmly. “We know the plan. Loki will foil the alliance, and when the time is right, he’ll die.”

My eyes widen. _He’ll die? Who is he?_

Their footsteps shuffle closer, but I hold my ground, needing to hear more. “When he succeeds,” Alvi says softly, “what will happen to us?” There’s genuine fear in his voice.

“We’ll go on as if nothing happened, just like he told us,” Gris says. “Everything will be fine. This is the only way.”

My mouth goes dry at the sound of those words, the same words that I’ve repeated in my head thousands of times to prepare me for this trip. Whatever they’re planning, they’re desperate. 

Their steps are too close now. I pull away from the wall, ducking behind a large statue of Odin, trying to pull as much of my dress behind the metal as I can. There’s no shine to the fabric here in the shadows, and I only hope that I’m invisible enough to avoid their eyes.

They round the corner, and all conversation between them has ceased. We’re too close to the ballroom now, and whatever they were discussing, they definitely don’t want to risk it being overheard.

I heard. And it horrifies me.

I hold my breath and still my heart as their feet pass, so close that I could reach out and touch them. By some miracle, they don’t see me. But I still wait for a few minutes after they’ve left before I stand.

Who is Loki going to kill? I gathered that he was devious, but this seems like a new level. I step from behind the statue, continuing my path down the hall. I still need to find him. I can’t let him ruin this alliance without a fight.

The halls seem haunted with a new type of darkness now. After hearing about Loki’s plan, I know with absolute certainty that I want nothing to do with this planet. I was on the fence before, but now, there might be just as much rebellion and trickery on Asgard as there is on Alfheim. It’s just hidden and secretive here, which is almost more dangerous than my people’s blatant hatred for me.

But my reign is tied to this planet. _There is no other way._

“It’s dangerous to wander the halls on a night like tonight,” a voice calls from the shadows ahead of me.

I falter, recognizing the voice that whispered threats in my ear not too long ago. “Why is that?”

Loki emerges from the darkness, still dressed in his ballroom attire. “Everyone is at the ball. There are no guards out here. No one to protect you.”

I stare him down. “I can protect myself.”

He smiles, and there’s a hunger in his eyes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He steps towards me, his hands behind his back. “But will you be able to protect yourself without Asgard’s help?”

I set my jaw. “You’re not going to ruin this alliance,” I say.

“It doesn’t have to be me,” he says simply. “I’m willing to let you leave here, kindly declining Odin’s help. I won’t expose your selfish motives, and you won’t have to lose your people.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Or,” he says, ignoring my comment, “you can fight for this alliance. In which case, I will turn your people against you, take your crown, and turn Asgard into the enemy you never dreamed of.” He smiles. “It’s your choice.”

I tilt my head. An hour ago, his words would have bothered me more than anything. But circumstances have changed, and I get the feeling that my words will be able to rock him just as much as he’s rocked me. “You’re not going to tell him,” I say softly.

“Why not?” He looks amused. He thinks I’m making some pointless stand that he’ll be able to destroy just by whispering a few words to his father.

I step towards him. “Because if you do, then I’ll tell your father what you’re planning.”

There. The slightest quiver in his cocky expression. 

I step forward again. We’re so close, I can practically feel his heart beating faster. “I know you’re threatened by this alliance. I know it will ruin what you have planned,” I say.

He narrows his eyes. “You know nothing.”

“Don’t I?” A smirk works its way onto my face. “Alvi and Gris don’t have the quietest voices.”

He snaps. His hands grab my arms and he spins me, slamming me up against the wall. I shout through my teeth, struggling against his grip. As quick as a viper, he crosses his forearm across my shoulders, pinning me in place, and levels a knife at my throat. It’s long and black, with a deadly sharp blade and a golden handle. The anger in his eyes is palpable.

“You will not breathe a word of that,” he whispers, accentuating his point with his blade as he pushes it against the soft skin of my neck.

I exhale breathlessly. “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” I say. “So long as you keep yours shut, too.”

He pushes me harder into the wall, seething. “I am a god,” he reminds me. “I am not someone you want as your enemy.” His hand is unwavering as he holds the dagger to my throat.

I lean closer to him, forcing the tip of his blade to draw a drop of blood from my neck. “That may be true,” I say. “But you would do well to remember that you are still just a prince. I am a queen.”

His expression twitches slightly, and for a split second, a fraction of the hatred is replaced with something softer. He yanks his blade off of me and steps away, and I can finally breathe. “There will be no alliance,” he growls. “I won’t allow it.”

“If you want your secret to remain unknown, you will.” I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm. I pull against him, but his grip is strong.

“Know this, Rina. You are standing in the way of what I want. And those who try and stop me always lose.”

Maybe I’ve gone too far. Maybe I should heed his warning. Maybe it would be better to take my chances back home than to spark a rivalry with the Prince of Asgard.

And maybe I’m just drunk enough to take my chances.

“Do your worst,” I whisper. I rip my arm free, leaving him in the darkness.

  
  
  
  
  



	5. beauty lies behind the hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rina meets the people of Asgard. But they don’t react quite as she had hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!  
> i’m so sorry for the delay on this chapter, i’ve been having some major writer’s block.  
> i hope you like it! let me know what you think and what else you want to see in future chapters.  
> as always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!! :)

Three hesitant knocks come at the door. I keep my eyes trained on my image in the mirror, clasping my silver pendant around my neck. The assistance of some Asgardian handmaidens was offered to me, but I declined. After my... _altercation_ with Loki last night, I just wanted to be left alone. A dozen bustling bodies around me would only strain what little resolve I have left. 

Today is crucial to the alliance. If the Asgardian people like me enough, it could guarantee the King’s approval. I know the opinions of his people mean a lot to him. Winning them over might be my only chance to make this thing work. Even though Loki and I are trapped in a stalemate of sorts, I wouldn’t put it past him to make it clear to Odin that he despises me. This is my last resort. If I can’t make today work, I may as well give up.

I’ve decided to wear a simpler, more elegant outfit today. My hair is done in a complex braided bun, the likes of which I learned from Idril’s skilled hands. I chose a glittering silver crown that matches my thin silver bracelet and the pendant around my neck. The Crest of Alfheim is pressed into the metal, and having it on me makes me feel just a little calmer.

My dress is a statement in itself. It’s lightweight silk, in the most beautiful shade of pale blue. The neckline cuts in a perfectly straight line across my chest, parallel with my shoulders. The gown is practically backless, with thin straps that cross over each other and tie in a tight bow at the small of my back. The same thin straps go over my shoulders and keep the dress in place. The skirt is unstructured, falling loosely off of my waist and fluttering behind me.

I’ll consult Aldon before leaving for the tour, but I’m sure that he’ll like it. I look positively royal.

I clear my throat. “Come in,” I say, addressing the knocks on my door. I turn, expecting a servant or handmaiden to appear. My heart seizes when Prince Thor slips through the doorway.

“Good morning,” he says with a smile, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from collapsing into a curtsy. _We’re equals,_ I remind myself. This may be his world, but I am still a queen.

I bow my head slightly. “Good morning,” I say. “What brings you here?”

A faint blush colours Thor’s cheeks. “Oh,” he says, his brows raised. “I’m here to show you the wine cellar.”

My eyes widen. With everything that happened last night in combination with the alcohol in my system, Thor’s offer to show me around the cellars had completely slipped my mind. My own blush heats my face. “Right!” I say with a smile. 

Thor tilts his head. “It’s alright if you forgot. You did drink quite a lot of wine.”

I laugh nervously. “No, no. I hadn’t forgotten. I just…” My mind searches for an excuse. “I wasn’t expecting you, because you were supposed to send someone for me.”

Thor nods. “Ah, yes. Well, I thought it might be more appropriate if I escorted you myself.” He steps towards me, extending his hand. “Would that be alright with you?”

I bite my lip. His eyes shine kindly, and it makes me want to melt inside. I nod, slipping my hand into his. “Yes. I would like that very much.”

His teeth flash in a smirk, and he leads me out of the room. His hand shifts until our arms are linked, his large and strong in mine. “You look ravishing, by the way,” he says softly.

I meet his eyes, warm and bright. He’s dressed in a very similar outfit to last night- a slightly less fancy silver breastplate and red cape- and I begin to think that this might be his signature look. “You don’t look too bad, yourself,” I say. He laughs lightly.

“The people will love you. I’m sure of it.”

I sigh. “You think? I’m beginning to get nervous.”

We round a corner, passing some servants who bow politely. “There’s no reason to be nervous,” Thor assures me. “Your entrance made quite an impression. They already adore you.”

I smile, relieved that their love for me wasn’t all in my head. “They do?”

He nods. “Oh, yes. They’ve been anxiously awaiting your arrival. And the way you helped that little girl revealed your true nature. You’re nothing like Malekith.”

My heart swells with appreciation at the way he doesn’t refer to Malekith as my father. I know it’s the truth, but it still makes my skin crawl to hear it. “I’m glad you think that,” I say softly. “Not all of the people of my world share those same views.”

“Then they’re wrong,” he says firmly. “I’ve only known you for a day, and already I can see that you’re the spitting image of your mother, inside and out. There’s nothing dark or evil about you.”

I smile up at him, enchanted by his naive words. He really doesn’t know me at all, does he? He believes I’m good, and something about it is alluring. Is that really the aura I give off? 

Loki certainly doesn’t think so.

We step down a flight of stairs, pausing before a large set of wooden doors. Thor slips his arm from mine, unlatching the door and pushing it open. It makes a deep, rumbling noise as it moves, revealing a massive maze of barrels and bottles. “The cellar,” he announces, taking in the awed look on my face. 

“It’s…” I falter, caught up in the scene before me. There must be a hundred thousand bottles of wine down here, all neatly organized in wooden racks. Some bottles are clearly older, their racks coated with dust and decorated with spider webs. Others rest on perfectly clean racks, the glass of their bottles still glinting with a youthful shine. Massive wooden barrels line an entire wall, some outfitted with spouts and others completely sealed to allow aging. The ceiling is impossibly high, stretching into darkness. “It’s incredible,” I say.

“I’m glad you like it.” Thor gestures inside. “After you,” he says with a pleased grin. I step inside, each drop of my heels echoing in the vast space. It smells of dust and wood, but a more pleasant scent has never reached my nose. It’s magical, the bottles shimmering in the torchlight and the silence wrapping the room in utter peace. I start through the maze of bottles, running my fingers along the racks. I trace a line in the dust that coats some particularly old stores, and smile to myself. There’s something calming about this place.

“I thought you were exaggerating,” I admit. “But it’s really amazing.”

“I was hoping you’d think so,” Thor says. 

I turn to him. “Do you take all the girls down here?” I mean it as a silly, flirtatious comment, but Thor blushes. The sight is strange- his confidence being shaken seems like a rare occurrence.

“No,” he says gently. “Just you.”

My breath catches. _What does that mean?_

Thor clears his throat, averting his gaze. “But only because no others have ever shown any interest in our wine collection.”

I purse my lips to hold in a smile and nod. “Oh, of course.”

Thor hesitates for a moment more before he holds out his hand to me. “Shall we? There’s so much I want to show you before we have to leave.”

I slip my hand into his warm, strong grasp. “Lead the way.”

We travel through the bottles, my eyes overwhelmed by the sight. Every once in a while, he pulls a bottle off of its rack and shows it to me, explaining the type of grape used or its age. I nod my head and try to look engaged, but I must admit, most of his words go right over my head. Even so, I enjoy the way his eyes light up and his gestures intensify with his excitement.

“This one,” he says, holding a dusty bottle that has warped with age, “is a personal favourite of mine.”

I touch the bottle gently, leaving fingerprints in the dust. There’s no label, but there is an inscription carved into the glass. I look closer, recognizing the Asgardian symbols. They’re very old, from long before my time. I’m sure they aren’t used anymore, but I know enough of the current Asgardian symbology, and this doesn’t seem too far off. I rack my brain, and after a moment, I realize the inscription is a series of numbers.

“What does it mean?” I ask, running my fingers across the inscription.

“It’s a date,” Thor says softly. I look up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. “It’s the date my parents were wed. They were supposed to share this bottle on their five-hundred-thousandth anniversary.”

I can hear the pain in his voice even before I notice the small tears welling in his eyes. I lay my hand on his, and he meets my gaze. There’s immeasurable sadness behind his eyes, and I can tell the pain of losing his mother is as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. 

He clears his throat, regaining his composure. “Now, it will stay down here until the fall of Asgard.” He slides the bottle back into its place. “Or, I suppose, until my father drinks it out of grief or anger. Whichever comes first.” 

I slide my hand back into his. He squeezes my fingers, and I can tell he’s comforted by the touch. “She was a wonderful woman,” I say. “I only met her once, but I could tell she was a rarity. I’m lucky to have spent even a moment in her presence.”

Thor nods. “She was wonderful,” he agrees. There’s a stretch of silence as we both remember the Asgardian Queen Frigg. I remember meeting her at Odin’s party, her kind eyes and warm smile an instant comfort. She was so regal and wise, and I vividly remember thinking that I wanted to be just like her when I became Queen.

Thor sighs and looks around. “Well, we should probably be going. I don’t want to make you late for your tour of the city.”

I nod. “Thank you for showing me,” I say. “This is amazing.”

He hesitates for a heartbeat, staring into my eyes. “Of course.” We turn and head back towards the door, taking in the beauty of the cellar once more. 

An unmistakable chill runs down my spine. A warning. I only have to wonder what it’s warning me of for a moment before we turn a corner, and I see him. Dark hair, pale eyes, devious expression.

“What a surprise!” Loki says with a smile. My hand slips from Thor’s instinctively, and I don’t miss the way Loki’s eyes are drawn to the movement. Something flickers in his expression, and if I didn’t know better, I would say it was jealousy. Then his features straighten and he’s smiling again, looking positively joyous at the sight of us.

Thor laughs. “Brother! What are you doing down here?”

“Well, you know how much I love peace and quiet. And there’s nowhere more isolated than down here.” His eyes train on me as he speaks, and a pit of worry begins to well in my stomach. Is he threatening me? Is he suggesting that he would try to harm me down here, where no one would know?

_Don’t be ridiculous,_ I tell myself. Loki isn’t stupid, and he would have to be to try something while his older brother stands beside me. His words are threatening, but the threats are empty. I’m not in danger.

I smile innocently. “Yes, it is quite peaceful down here, isn’t it?” I ask, and the god of mischief’s expression wavers again. It sparks a flare of glee in me. He expected me to squirm or panic and give something away. But while his manipulation may work on everyone else, I refuse to be shaken by him.

He smiles coyly. “Did you enjoy the tour?”

I nod eagerly. “Yes, very much so. This place is incredible!” I slip my hand back into Thor’s and turn to the older god. “Thank you again for showing me. I had a wonderful time.”

Thor grins. “It was my pleasure, Your Majesty.” The way we’re standing, I can see Loki out of the corner of my eye. He has stiffened, and his eyes burn brightly with something like rage. I won’t pretend to know why, but something about my closeness with his brother bothers him immensely.

I almost laugh. Loki came down here to threaten me, to shatter my resolve. And here I am, turning his own intentions back on him.

“We should go,” Thor says. 

I nod in agreement. I turn to Loki, keeping my hand firmly entwined with the god of thunder’s. “It was lovely to see you, Prince Loki,” I say with a small curtsy. “Enjoy the peace and quiet.”

With that, we go, leaving a fuming Loki to seethe in the shadows.

———

“You look perfect,” Aldon says.

“I second that,” Thor calls. I smile at the prince where he stands in front of me, to the right of his father. Loki stands to Odin’s left, but he’s been very careful to not spare a single glance in my direction.

I stand directly behind the king. They’ll emerge first into the town square, and I’ll follow. I feel a little better knowing Thor will be by my side. Somehow, after only knowing him for a day, his presence is comforting. The fact that Loki will also be by my side disturbs me more than I can easily express, but I’ll just have to take comfort in the fact that he would never try anything while the whole world is watching.

We haven’t spoken alone since he held a dagger to my throat, and his message then was clear. If I speak even a word of his plans to anyone, he’ll kill me. And while that does seem to be a problem, I’m confident that my leverage will be enough to stop him from spilling my secrets. Neither one of us will speak a word of the truth. But both of us want to see the other one gone.

I have no doubts that Loki is planning some way to make me leave of my own accord. Perhaps he’ll try to scare me, or threaten those I love. But until he makes a move, I can’t do anything. To act would be to set my secrets free. And that would mean losing the throne.

“Are you ready, Your Highnesses?” a palace guard asks. We’ve travelled down a tunnel through the castle, and supposedly, the doors before us open right into the town square. As soon as I nod my head, I’ll be submerged into a crowd of Asgardians, and my stellar acting will have to begin.

Aldon squeezes my hand. “They’ll love you,” he whispers. “They already do.” I squeeze his hand back, freeing some of the jitters from my limbs.

“We’re ready,” Odin says, speaking for himself and his sons. The kind king turns back to me. “Are you ready, Queen Rina?”

I swallow my nerves, steeling my features. _They’ll love me. They already do._ “Yes,” I say with a nod. “I’m ready.”

The doors open, and the cheering consumes me. The king and princes step forward, their steps synchronized. I’m overwhelmed, but I have enough of my senses left to blindly follow, my crown-adorned head held high. The daylight is shocking to my eyes and the screaming has the same effect on my ears. It’s chaotic like a hurricane, but somehow, the cloud of euphoria still hovers around their shouts.

_They love me._

“Greetings, Asgard!” Odin calls, and some of the cheering quiets. “We’re delighted to be here today, among our people, to celebrate the presence of a very special individual.” I’m still partially hidden behind the king, but I’m not invisible. Dozens of hands already reach out to me, and the sound of my name echoing across a thousand voices distracts me from Odin’s words. I know he’s introducing me, explaining my history and my purpose here. 

But my name…

_RinaRinaRinaRinaRinaRinaRina_

It’s all I can hear. And those four letters warp in my mind, until all I can make out is the truth.

_LiarLiarLiarLiarLiarLiarLiar_

It’s suffocating and crippling, because deep down, I know that this can never last. I can’t keep up this ruse forever.

“Without further ado, may I present Queen Rina of Alfheim!”

**_LIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIARLIAR_ **

Their screams intensify, and I can feel my heart crawling into my throat. And then the king is stepping aside and my legs are pulling me forward into the center of their accusations. And I’m smiling and waving, thanking them for their love. 

For their misplaced, oblivious love.

I recite the speech I was given without a hitch. My body takes over for my fractured mind, and I can only hope that they believe what I’m saying. 

“I’m so thankful for this opportunity…” Lie.

“I can’t wait to start this journey...” Lie.

“I truly believe that we are stronger together.” 

Lie.

It’s all I’ve done since I got here. And it’s what I’ll have to do for the rest of my life.

“You did great,” Thor says softly, and I realize I’ve migrated to his side.

I draw a deep breath, forcing myself back to reality. “Thank you,” I say with a small smile.

Four black horses pull a golden carriage into the square. It halts in front of us, ready to take us to the next village. The king and princes don’t hesitate to step into the carriage, but I turn quickly back to the doors of the tunnel, where Aldon stands. I know he can sense my panic, he can see the fear in my eyes. He’s always been able to read me like a book, even if I’ve closed off my emotions to the rest of the world. Aldon is my rock, and I’ve never needed to cling to his steadiness more than now.

He smiles and nods, and even just that small gesture breathes the strength back into me. I return his smile. _You can do this. There is no other way._

“Are you coming, Your Highness?” Thor holds his hand out to me. I smile and slide my fingers into his grasp. He steadies me as I step into the carriage, multiple _oohs_ and _aahs_ coming from the crowds as they witness our joined hands.

Odin sits on the velvet bench that faces the back of the carriage, his sons flanking him on either side. I sit on the bench facing them, the air around me cold. The carriage pulls into motion, and the people scream as we leave. Royal guards on horseback accompany us as we wind through the streets, people sticking their heads out of windows as we pass their houses. 

The rest of the day is much of the same. We arrive in a quaint little village square. Odin and I both give speeches. I shake hands with some people and try my best to speak with as many citizens as I can. I receive countless gifts, whether it’s food or jewellery or coins thrown at my feet. I leave the coins, not understanding how some people with so little would be willing to give up a portion of their wealth to people who clearly have so much. I make sure to consistently smile and speak my gratefulness, and a few times, I catch the king smiling at me.

Everything is going perfectly. Until we reach the second to last village on our tour, and I can sense a difference in the atmosphere.

No one cheers as we approach. People in houses draw their shutters as we pass. The sun has almost completely set, and the shadowy light only adds to the ominous mood.

The people here don’t love me. It feels like home, and that sends a chill through me.

We pull into the silent square. There’s still crowds of people lining the space, but there’s no need for them to be roped off. None of them cheer or reach out to us. They only glare silently, like I’ve offended them with my presence.

We step out of the carriage, and Odin begins his speech. No one pays him any attention- their eyes are all on me. I can feel the pressure of their stares bearing down on my chest like a lead sheet. My mouth is suddenly dry, and drawing a full breath feels laboured.

_Do they know? Do they hate me because they know my selfish intentions?_

“...may I present Queen Rina of Alfheim.”

There’s no applause as I step forward. I take in their hateful looks for a moment before I clear my throat. “People of Asgard,” I say, trying to force some strength into my words. “I’m so excited to be here today. Thank you for allowing me to meet you all.”

A shout comes from my left. “Liar!”

My breath catches as I search the crowds for the face belonging to the voice. Nobody even blinks at my stare. I swallow and try to start again. “I’m so thankful for this opportunity to start a new relationship with Asgard. As many of you know, my mother, the late Queen Aelsa, had very strong bonds with the Asgardian royal family. I’m here to make sure those bonds stay as strong as ever.”

“We’ll never stand for a Dark Elf as an ally!” another voice shouts.

“No daughter of Malekith will rule me!”

“You can rot in Hel for what your family has done!”

The shouts come all at once, the stoic crowd unravelling into hateful jeers and threats. My heart beats painfully hard and I can’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes. _They hate me. And they always will._

Why would I expect anything different? I share half of my blood with their greatest enemy. I’ll never be welcomed here.

The shouts are deafening, and I’m reminded of my descent from my ship less than two days ago. There’s none of the euphoria or love attached to these screams. They want me gone. They want me dead.

I turn towards the royal family. Thor and Odin look at me sympathetically, and even Loki looks less pleased than I would have expected. _It’s over. You can’t win over their people. There will be no alliance. Enjoy your crown before it’s torn from your head._

A brief flicker of a warning slithers down my spine before a sharp pain explodes across my shoulder. Throbs blossom out from the spot, and I stumble back in surprise. A rock falls to my feet. 

They threw a rock at me.

The sight seems to invigorate the crowd. Dozens of projectiles launch towards me. Rocks, food, and even pieces of broken glass rain down on me. Pain pinches at me where each piece of debris finds its target. I gasp and raise my hands to protect my face, and a particularity painful hit grazes my side. I bite back a scream as I stagger away from the crowds.

“Rina!” Someone’s arms wrap around me, shielding my body with theirs and covering my head with their hands. I’m pulled towards the carriage as Thor blocks the debris. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately wanting to just block out the world around me. I hear royal guards shouting and fighting with people, trying to get them to stop. _I deserve this. I deserve their hatred-_

“Climb in!” Thor shouts above the noise. I snap my eyes open, my body throbbing painfully. The golden carriage stands in front of me, and I don’t hesitate to step into its safety. Odin is already tucked inside, and the guards are starting to pull a hidden roof over our heads to protect us from the assault.

Thor ducks in and sits beside me, breathing heavily. Loki joins us soon after, sitting opposite me and beside his father. Thor looks intentionally at me. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Are you sure?” He goes to pull my arms away from my torso, but I wrap them tighter around to cover my wounds.

“I’m fine!” I exclaim. “I’m not hurt!” Thor looks taken aback, and he sits down slowly beside me. The horses burst to life, and we hurry away from the hostile village.

The silence that accompanies our ride is humming with shock and awe. I’m careful to keep my arms wrapped around me, blocking whatever injuries I may have. It may be clear to the king that the people bruised my ego, but I can’t let him know that they bruised my body, too. 

I purse my lips, the shame of the situation making me nauseous. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, to no one in particular, or maybe to everyone. 

There’s another breath of nothingness. “You have nothing to apologize for,” Thor says softly.

I bite my lip. “Yes, I do. I put you all in danger because of who I am.”

“Who your _father_ is,” Thor corrects. “You don’t get to choose your family. You can’t help that he’s your father.”

I shake my head. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t change the facts. I’m half Dark Elf, and that will never change. That will always be a part of me. A part that I hate,” I admit, “but a part I’ll never be able to change.”

The sound of my heartbeat is painfully loud in my ears. It echoes to my body, focusing especially hard on my wounds.

“I was born a Frost Giant.” My head snaps up. Loki looks at me with the same disgust as before, but there’s something softer around the edges. “But that doesn’t mean that’s all I’ll ever be. You can be more than who you were born to be.” The seemingly sincere aura of his words takes me by surprise.

Odin clears his throat. “My sons are right. You cannot help that Malekith was your father. As I understand, you never even met him. My son Loki was born to be an enemy of Asgard. And now, he’s our loyal and beloved prince.” 

_If only you knew,_ I think. _If only you knew that he’s plotting behind your back…_

Odin makes sincere eye contact with me. “People change. People grow. And most importantly, people chose their own path. Which path have you chosen?”

I swallow. It shouldn’t be a difficult question. I’m nothing like my father, and I don’t ever want to be. I strive to follow in my mother’s footsteps. But doesn’t my reason for being here counteract all of that?

“I chose the path of light,” I say with as much strength as I can muster. “Malekith may have given me his blood, but my veins are filled with nothing but my mother. My heart belongs to the light. And it always will.” My eyes flit to Loki, and I can tell he sees through my words. But where I would expect a look of rage or hatred, I see only understanding. It baffles me.

Odin has no such reservations. He smiles. “Just as I suspected you had. You remind me so much of her.” 

I smile. “Thank you, King Odin. That means the world.”

The carriage slows to a stop. Loki refrains from eye contact as he steps down from the carriage. Odin exits, and Thor and I follow. We stand at the doors of the palace, where royal guards and servants are awaiting our arrival. The hurry up to us, their expressions bright and excited. I had forgotten there was supposed to be an after party when we returned.

Odin waves away the servants. “I’m terribly sorry,” he says. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to call off the party. There’s been an incident.” The servants all look shocked, before they see my disheveled appearance. Many of their faces dissolve into shock, and others try to rush forward and help me.

“I’m alright,” I assure them. “I’m just going to head to bed.”

They hesitate, but Odin dismisses them. He turns to me. “I’ll have a medic sent to your room.”

“No, thank you,” I say. “I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure?”

I smile, keeping my arms around my torso. “Yes, thank you.”

Odin nods, disappearing into the castle. Loki already left somewhere in the bustle of the servants, leaving Thor and I alone.

I study the stone floor for a moment. I need to get to my room so I can see how badly I’m injured, but there’s something I need to fix first. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I say. “You saved me, and I didn’t even say thank you.” Thor looks surprised. “So…” I bite my lip. “Thank you.”

He smiles, and bows slightly. “It was my genuine pleasure, Your Majesty.” His expression sobers slightly. “I’ll talk to my father. We’ll sort this out, alright? We’ll change the peoples’ minds.”

I nod. “Thank you.” 

I want to believe him. But some things just can’t be fixed.

———

I finally drop my arms when I’m in front of the mirror.

The damage isn’t too bad. A bit of bruising, but nothing that can’t be covered with a long sleeve dress and a high neck. There are some shallow cuts along my arms and a few tears in the dress, but if I’m being honest, I expected worse. I turn to the side to see what’s pulsing with pain on my ribs.

Oh. Worse.

A dangerously deep gash slices along my side, carving right along one of my ribs. It bleeds profusely, but I’m mostly just relieved that the spreading patch of blood wasn’t noticeable under my arm and in the dark of night. It must have been caused by a well aimed shard of glass.

I slide my fingers into the tear of the dress, pulling the hole wide open to reveal the cut. _Okay, you can do this. Deep breaths._

“Am I interrupting something?”

I spin around, my eyes landing on Loki’s tall form, lounging on my couch. I let my arms fall to my sides again, covering the blood as best as I can. “What are you doing in here?” I demand.

He tosses a dagger into the air, catching it perfectly by the handle each time. “I just thought I would come to renegotiate.”

“I’m still not leaving,” I say. “A few stones won’t scare me away.”

Loki sighs. “But you see, this is the perfect opportunity for you to go. If you want, I can help you explain to my father that it was all just too much for you, and you don’t think you can do this anymore. Your people will know that you gave it your best chance, and I’ll be free of you.”

The blood is hot as it trickles down my side. “It would be a good plan,” I say. “But you’re forgetting that the Light Elves are a race of warriors. If I run at the first sign of danger, they’ll have even less respect for me. This will only benefit you.”

He catches the dagger with a swipe. “Leave with some dignity,” he says quietly. “Or I will make you.”

I scoff. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be. Those who oppose me always are.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” A fresh flare of pain from my wound makes me suck in a sharp breath.

Loki finally looks at me, and something like worry flowers behind his hateful stare. He stands, his eyes trailing on the blood soaking my dress. “You’re injured.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re bleeding out.”

I narrow my eyes. “Since when do you care? If I bleed out, all your problems go away.”

He hesitates, seeing his mistake. “I don’t care,” he assures me. “But if you die on my watch, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I roll my eyes. “This isn’t your problem. Just get out. Nobody needs to know you were here.”

He raises his chin. “Do you know how to do stitches?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

He sighs. “You’re insufferable.” He turns to a cabinet by the door, pulling out a small golden box. He starts towards me.

I step back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He blinks. “I’m stitching your wound.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“No, you wouldn’t. But you need it.” He starts forward again, but I move away.

“I don’t need anything from you.”

He gives me an exasperated look. “Rina, _please-”_

“Get away from me!” I shout. The edges of my vision have started to go dark.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he hisses. 

“Am I?” I laugh, a little hysterical. “You’ve made it clear that you want me dead. Why on earth would you want to save me?”

“I told you,” he starts. “If you die on my watch-”

“And I told you that you could just go! I don’t need your help!” I stumble, leaning back against the wall for support.

He huffs. “Yes, you do.” He steps towards me, and somehow, I’ve made my way to the floor. My knees are gathered to my chest and I sit on the ground, my head lolling back against the wall. Everything seems a little cloudy. Even Loki’s face is shrouded in a blur as he crouches beside me. He reaches to pick me up, but I slap his hands away.

“You are impossible,” he mutters, and reaches out to me again. 

“Don’t touch me,” I say, my voice cracking, my hands pushing his away. “I don’t need your help.”

“You’re sitting in a puddle of blood,” he says. “I beg to differ.” He stops trying to touch me, opting instead to open his tiny medical kit. It consists of only a roll of white bandage, a few silver needles, and something that looks like plastic string. “Sit still,” he commands.

I can’t really object, since the world is spinning out of focus and I can feel my head dipping towards the ground. “Rina,” he says, but I can’t find the words to respond. He reaches out and cups my cheek, and I can’t seem to push him away anymore. “Rina, stay awake.” He pulls my face back up, switching his grip so he’s grasping my chin. “Stay awake,” he orders again, his words emphasized with a small shake of my head.

The movement clears some of the fog, and I cling to consciousness like a lifeline. I’ll be damned if I pass out and leave myself defenceless to Loki. “There you go,” he says, studying me. 

“Why are you helping me?” I ask weakly. “Don’t lie to me.”

He reaches down and pulls out a needle and a length of the strange string. He loops the string through the needle, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he says, so softly I almost miss it. The needle hovers over my wound. “This might hurt,” he says, and plunges into my skin.

I gasp a little at the sensation, but I’m so numb, I can hardly describe the feeling as pain. He pulls a length of string through, expertly tying a knot. “Why didn’t you mention this to my father?” he asks.

I take a shuddering breath as I feel the needle go back in. “I don’t know.”

He smiles a little. “Don’t lie to me,” he says, echoing my words.

I laugh bitterly. “You, of all people, don’t deserve the truth.”

His fingers hesitate for a moment, and if I didn’t know how evil he truly is, I would’ve sworn he looked hurt by my words. “You’re right,” he says. There’s a few seconds of silence while he works. “You didn’t want him to know that they had hurt you. You want him to believe that you’re above being hurt by them. That you’re stronger than that.”

I stay silent. He’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean I’ll admit it.

“Take it from me,” he says softly. “Once my father has an opinion of you, nothing in the world will change his mind. If he’s already decided you’re not worthy, then you never will be.”

I take a laboured breath as he ties a stitch. “Is this you still trying to get me to leave? Because it’s not working.”

He shakes his head. “It’s the truth.” He ties the last stitch, and wraps a length of bandage around my torso. He cleans up the supplies and stands. “Will you let me help you into bed?”

I stare up at him, doubting all of his intentions, assuming the deceit behind all of his words, and I nod. He grasps my upper arms and helps me stand. My unsteady feet stumble slightly, but he holds me upright. I look into his icy eyes, and in a moment, I’m transported back to the ballroom. Where we stood like this, dancing as he whispered threats in my ear. Was that only a day ago?

Something has changed since then. I have no idea what it is or how it transformed, but the air between us is different now. It’s still charged with hatred and betrayal and a deep mistrust, but maybe, the shared struggle of being born into darkness has brought something between us to light.

I lay on the mattress, and he draws the covers over me.

“Wear something with long sleeves and a high neck tomorrow,” he says.

I narrow my eyes. “I’ll wear what I want.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You are the most difficult woman I’ve ever encountered.” With that he turns, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Leaving me alone, with a million thoughts racing through my head.


	6. when the night fades away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin proposes a way to make his people trust Rina. She doesn’t want any part of it, but she has no other way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it’s been so long! hope you guys enjoy :)) let me know what you think!

At some point in the haze of my blood loss, I drift into sleep.

It’s restless and uncomfortable, plagued with dreams. People hurling insults and stones at me. The sharp pain of a gash on my side. The hateful looks of the village people, their faces slowly morphing into the elves of my world who share their disdain.

Loki’s steel expression briefly flickering as he looks at my side with something like concern.

My mother, her beautiful face sunken and her lively eyes drained of their shine.

When I do wake up, I’m careful to stay perfectly still. I’m sure that any movement on my part will only cause an explosion of pain on my side. So I lay in the golden sheets, staring out the balcony, trying to remember a time before everything got so much harder.

Eventually, I hear the distinct noise of chatter and footsteps in the hallway. The maids and servants must be preparing for the day. It won’t be long before someone knocks on my door, and by the time that happens, I have to be up and dressed in something that will cover my wounds.

I close my eyes, pulling a few slow breaths into my lungs. I can already feel my side throbbing with the movement of my chest. Before I have time to think anything through, I sit up gently, trying my best to not jostle my side.

It doesn’t work. Despite my best efforts, a small gasp hisses through my teeth. Fiery wisps of pain spiral out from the wound, licking all around the gash with their burning tendrils. I swallow, hard, determined to block out the pain, and step out of bed.

My feet are steadier than I would’ve expected, and for that, I’m thankful. I only feel a slight weakness in my knees, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I walk gingerly over to my closet, trying to find a way to move my legs that doesn’t stretch the muscles on my torso.

I open the broad closet doors, taking in the dozens of gowns that have been hung up for me. I almost laugh at the sight. Who could ever need this many dresses for just a few days? I know I’m a queen, of course, and that this level of luxury is required. But it still seems a little over the top.

Even so, I’m delighted by the broad range of selection this morning. My style is not typically as modest as long sleeves and high necks, but there are a few gowns of this description hanging in the closet amongst the other less conservative dresses.

My eyes drift over the fabrics for a moment before I decide. A modest, cream coloured gown with a neckline that strokes just beneath my chin and sleeves that end at my wrists. The material is a combination of satin with a gorgeous, intricate lace that overlays the whole gown. The stitching of the lace douses the dress in beautiful detail, a pleasing contrast to the more plain, muted fabric underneath. The skirt is fitting against my thighs, flaring out slightly at my knees. I slip on a pair of silver shoes with only a quarter inch heel, hoping it will help with the unsteadiness in my legs.

I step back and observe myself in the mirror. Every bruise and cut is covered, invisible beneath the fabric. As much as I hate to admit it, Loki did a fantastic stitching job. His stitches held up well even as I maneuvered into the dress, and the layers of bandages are barely noticeable, even if you know they’re there.

I still can’t help but wonder why he helped me. He insisted it was because he would be in trouble if I died on his watch. But I could tell he was deflecting. There was no reason for him to save my life. I was bleeding out and completely unaware of how to do stitches. I would have died, and all of his problems would have gone away.

And then there’s the comment he made in the carriage. He reassured me, telling me that my parents don’t decide my life. It was almost a kind gesture, and I don’t know what to make of it.

From the very first moment our eyes met, I could tell he wanted nothing more than to see me dead. Somehow, an alliance with Alfheim stands in the way of his plans. 

And I’m not even sure what his plans are. I’ve been bluffing to him this whole time, threatening to spill his plans if he sells me out. But all I know is that Loki plans to kill someone, and the alliance has to fall apart before that can happen. Not to mention, Alvi and Gris mentioned a woman who could see through Loki’s illusions. I have to assume that they’ll be trying to take her out of the equation, too.

I sigh. Is it really worth all of this? I barely heard two words of Loki’s plan, and I can tell that it goes deeper than me or this alliance. He’s been planning this for a while, and my being here could somehow tear it all apart. Is it really worth angering a god so Odin doesn’t know my true intentions? 

I don’t want to be here. I never did. An alliance with Asgard was never something that I wanted. Begging for their help only shows that the Light Elves are weak, and I know that we can be strong without Asgard. I’m only here to keep my throne. And somehow, Loki knew that before I had even spoken a word. I would blame it on his godly powers, but I know that there was nothing magical about it. Loki sees more than what’s on the surface. He saw through me like I was made of glass when even his father didn’t suspect a thing. Even last night, as he was stitching my wounds, he knew why I didn’t tell his father about the gash on my side. I never told him, but he knew.

He’s not someone you can keep secrets from, and that makes him a powerful enemy.  _ What have I gotten myself into? _

A knock at the door. For a moment I panic, wondering if it’s Loki on the other side. But I remind myself that it couldn’t be. Loki wouldn’t knock. He would walk right in without asking for permission. I clear my throat, smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress. “Come in,” I say. The door creaks gently open.

A maid sticks her head in the door, her fiery red hair gathered into a long braid. “Sorry to bother you, Your Highness. Would you like help getting ready?”

Normally, I would refuse their help. Something about being fussed over makes me feel strange. But I can already tell that stretching my hands up to do my hair will be excruciating. So I smile. “Yes, that would be very nice. Thank you.”

She looks shocked for a split second before she smiles happily. She steps inside, and three more maids hurry in behind her, all bustling towards me excitedly. “Oh,” I say, surprised at the sudden influx in maids. “You don’t all have to…” They sit me down on a chair in front of the mirror, pulling out pins and brushes and setting them on the table. “I’m sure you guys have more important things to do than my hair,” I say, hoping at least half of the maids will leave.

“Oh, nonsense,” one of the maids says. “We’re always at your service, Your Highness.” Someone starts pulling a brush gently through my hair, and someone else starts massaging my shoulders. I try to protest again, but the pleasure of the massage quickly dissolves my objections, and I melt into their assistance.

Their hands work like magic, twisting my long locks into an intricate braided bun. They secure my hair with dozens of pins, and somehow fasten tiny, shining pearls into my braids. They ask permission before going into my closet, selecting a pearl-studded crown to match my hair.

There are a few moments when they sweep my hair aside and I can tell one of my bruises has been made visible. But to their credit, they never mention anything, and their eyes hardly linger on the wounds. The maid with the red hair simply reaches into a drawer of my vanity, pulling out a powder and a fluffy brush. She dabbles the brush in the makeup, softly spreading the powder over my bruises until they’re invisible.

When they finally pull away to admire their handiwork, I’m stunned. I look so much better than anything I could’ve done myself. My skin glows and my hair shines. Somehow, they even adjusted my dress to make it sit better on my frame. The simplicity of the dress compliments the intricacy of my hair, and they’ve even fastened a pearl bracelet around my wrist and tiny pearl earrings to my ears.

“Wow,” I breathe before I can stop myself, and my maids giggle.

“You like it?” one of the maids asks.

I smile. “I love it. You four are truly gifted.”

They all look flattered, some blushing and looking away. A murmur of thank-yous sound around me, and I can tell that they’re overwhelmed by my praise. I clear my throat. “Thank you, ladies,” I say, hoping they’ll hear my subtext and excuse themselves. The red-haired maid shifts uncomfortably.

“Your Highness, in addition to helping you get ready, we’ve also been sent here to give you a message.”

My heart skips. I had expected a quiet day; wandering the palace, avoiding Loki, and trying to figure out how to work things out with the king. I swallow my nerves, and prepare myself for the worst.

“King Odin has requested your presence in the royal gardens for tea.”

I raise my brows. I guess I had been hoping to smooth things over with the king, but I must admit, having tea alone with him makes me more nervous than when Loki had a knife to my throat. I nod. “Of course. Thank you.”

The maids curtsy and hurry away, closing the door behind them. I exhale a shaky breath, picking a spot on the wall the anchor my eyes and steady myself.  _ You can do this. King Odin loves you. He wants to make this work. _

_ There is no other way. _

———

“Queen Rina,” Odin says, standing to bow respectfully.

“Your Majesty,” I say, returning his gesture.

He smiles kindly, waving towards the empty chair across from him. “Please, sit.”

I lower myself into the chair, squeezing the arm rests to release some of the nerves from my body. I must admit, the garden does a lot in terms of calming me down. It’s absolutely breathtaking, though it’s still nothing compared to my garden back home. Still, it reminds me of Alfheim- the lively plants and the floral smell in the air. Roses, peonies, daffodils, and hoards of flowers I don’t recognize decorate the air around me in a shroud of colour. Some of the flowers sparkle as if gems grow on their petals, and others glow as if they're doused in starlight. Shrubbery litters the empty spaces, carving beautiful paths through the flowers and trees. It’s comforting, and if I close my eyes and just focus on the smell, I can almost picture that I’m home.

“Your garden is lovely,” I say, turning my attention back to the king. He’s dressed in a simple white tunic with a deep purple robe draped overtop. His exchange of armour for plainclothes steadies me somewhat. He’s not expecting a battle, just a civil debate between two allies.

“Yes, it is quite spectacular. My wife, Frigg, designed the whole thing. This garden was her pride and joy.” The sadness in his voice runs deep.

I smile warmly. “I can see why. She had exquisite taste.”

The king laughs lightly. “Would you like some tea?” he asks.

I nod, and he waves a pair of male servants over. They’re dressed in shimmering gold tunics, identical to the ones my maids and the other palace hands wear. They each lift a delicate white tea pot, filling the king’s cup and mine simultaneously. The drink smells incredible, and I can already tell that it’s nothing I’ve tasted before.

“Thank you,” I say to the servant, and he nods. I prefer my tea black, so while the king doses his with milk and sugar, I take a careful sip. It’s somehow the perfect temperature- pleasantly hot, but not hot enough to burn me. The flavours are immaculate. Fruity notes explore over my tongue, and the sweetness takes me by surprise. “This is wonderful,” I comment. The king takes a sip, nodding in agreement.

“An Asgardian mixture. Made with the finest ingredients of our world.” I take another sip, delighted by the taste. “Alright, then. Onto business,” the king says.

His words form a lump in my throat that’s almost big enough to block the tea as I swallow. I compose myself, setting down my cup. “Yes, of course. And may I just say; I am truly sorry for what happened yesterday.”

The king waves away my apology. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Loki was right. You didn’t choose your parents, but you did choose who you have become. And I like your choices. I think you’ll make a wonderful Queen of the Light Elves.”

A genuine smile brightens my face. “Thank you, Your Majesty. That means a lot.”

He clears his throat, his expression sobering. “That being said, not all of my people seem to share our thoughts. Some of them can’t get past Malekith’s influence- however small that may be- in your life.”

I nod. “I know. My people feel the same way. I’ve tried to show them that I’m nothing like him, but with all the terrible things Malekith has done, it’s no surprise that some of them still have their reservations.” 

The king nods. “I agree. The solution to this debacle won’t be a simple one.” I can tell he has more to say, but his words drop off.

I try to read the king’s expression, but it’s stony and free of emotion. I swallow nervously. “But you have something in mind?”

The king nods. 

“What is it?” I ask.

The king tilts his head. “That depends on you. What would you be willing to do to earn the people’s trust? My trust?”

I swallow. “I would do anything to win their trust. This alliance means everything to me.”

Lie.

The king raises his brows. “Anything?”

My heart begins to race.  _ You have to keep your crown. There is no other way.  _ “Anything, Your Highness. I promise.” The words burn as they leave my lips.

The king takes another, slow sip of his tea before he answers. “As I lay in bed last night, I wondered how we might be able to remedy our problem. I fear that nothing we can do will convince everyone that what’s in your blood will always be overruled by what’s in your heart. Some people will simply never trust you.”

I can feel myself pale.  _ Is he refusing the alliance? Is he turning me away? _

“And then something came to mind,” the king continues. “A way to solve two problems in one. A way to bond our worlds like never before.”

He pauses, seemingly waiting for a reaction from me. I sit forward. “Whatever it is, Your Majesty, I will do it. I will do anything.”

The king smiles slightly, pleased with my response. “I’m glad to hear that.” He pauses again, and I begin to grow restless. 

“What is it?” I ask. “What do you require of me?”

His eyes shine, and I begin to regret saying that I would do anything. “You will marry my son, Thor. And in doing so, you will unite the throne of Alfheim and the future throne of Asgard.”

———

The world dissolves until I’ve retreated into my own head. It’s safe in here. Just me and my thoughts and the empty spaces in between. No people, no thrones, no marriages.

I want to stay here forever. In this world of my own design, where everything can be perfect. Where I can ignore the words that just reached my ears as if they had never existed. Where I can forget the garden and the tea and the king and my promise.

I promised I would do anything. I promised him the world, and I was still surprised when he asked for it. I should’ve known that our extreme problem required an extreme solution. I should’ve known better, and I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

But I didn’t. And I can’t take it back. I promised him the world in exchange for my crown. And now, I have to give it to him.

I tumble back to reality, straightening in my chair. My voice is surprisingly steady when I speak. “You think that will work?”

Odin nods. “My people have been growing restless for quite some time. My reign will not last forever, and they know that. They also know that it is coming to a close. It will soon be time for my son to assume the throne.”

I take a sip of tea, my hand quivering slightly as I raise the cup to my lips.

“Every king in the history of our world has had a queen ruling with him. And all of them have had their queen by the time they assume their throne. You see, the monarchy works best this way. Our kings are famous for being aggressive and hot-headed. Myself included,” he chuckles, and I force myself to laugh with him.

“Having a queen balances this out. My wife, Frigg, was calming and level-headed. It was really her who made the biggest decisions during our rule. And it has always worked this way. The aggression and the calm work together to create a beautiful reign. The Asgardian people have grown anxious. For the first time in our history, it seems that my son is going to assume the throne alone. And some don’t believe that he can rule by himself to the same degree that kings have ruled with queens by their side.”

I try to wrap my head around this. “So you think that a Dark Elf who is already on the outs with your people will make Thor look like a more stable ruler?”

“As strange as it sounds, yes. I’ve given this quite some thought, and I truly believe this will work in both of our favours. The alliance between our worlds will be stronger than ever. Your people will have Asgard’s protection, and my people will have a strong pair of rulers.”

I bite my lip. I thought that maybe if Odin’s plan made sense, I would be able to convince myself to go through with it. But his vision seems naive to me. I was attacked by his people yesterday. Why would they want me as their queen?

“Queen Rina,” he says, and I meet his eyes. “I know this must be intimidating. You think that Asgard despises you and would hate to see you on the throne, yes?” I nod, his words reflecting my thoughts exactly. “But keep in mind, it was only one region of people who didn’t love you. One region out of hundreds. Most of my world adores you. They loved your mother and they love you. The majority of them would be utterly pleased to see you marry my son, and eventually, they would drown out the ones who wouldn’t be. And after time, with you as their queen, they would learn to love you. You and Thor would rule Alfheim and Asgard together.”

I consider this. The more he explains, the more it makes sense. This really could be the best move for both of our worlds.

Marrying Thor might be my only choice.

“So,” the king says. “Do we have an agreement?”

_ No no no no no- _

I smile warmly. “Yes.”

He claps his hands. “Wonderful! I’ll arrange an engagement announcement.”

An engagement announcement.  _ My  _ engagement. 

_ What on earth did I just agree to? _

I tell myself this was the only way. Odin sounded so sure. But some part of me detests the fact that I was so weak. He manipulated me, using my desperation to win his son a bride.

And there was no way out, because without Odin, I’ll lose everything.

Thor, the sweet guy who showed me the wine cellar, the one who protected me from the stones of his people. My future husband.

“Your Majesty,” I say, a thought surfacing in my mind. I bite my lip. “Does Thor know?”

The king nods. “I informed him of my idea this morning. I’ll let him know that you’ve accepted.”

I purse my lips nervously. “Did he…” I struggle to voice my thoughts. “Was he alright with it?”

The king smiles knowingly. “Yes. He agrees that this is the right thing to do. And it seems to me that he was somewhat fond of the idea of you as his bride.”

I force a smile, pretending that the idea of our marriage fills me with butterflies. 

Instead of dread.

———

A knock at the door shakes me out of my daze. I turn away from the balcony, tearing my eyes from the sight of the kingdom as the sun delves below the horizon. 

The kingdom that will soon be mine.

I’ve been frozen here for hours, my mind completely still, empty of thoughts. If I let myself even think about the marriage, I’ll spiral. And I can’t do that now. Not when I’m finally about to make my mother proud.

My intentions coming here were tainted, but now I’m making a real sacrifice. And while it still may be for selfish reasons, I’m sure that she would be proud of my dedication to the crown.

“Come in,” I call absentmindedly.

The door creaks open, and I hear a tentative step as someone moves into my room. Not Loki, he would never knock. Not Loki, so how bad can it be?

“Can we talk?” Thor says.

Worse.

I turn, taking in the sight of him. He’s in a deep blue tunic with sleeves that end at the wrists. It’s plain, and so much less extravagant than his cape and armour. He looks almost casual this way, and for a moment, I feel embarrassed in my gown.

Or maybe I’m just embarrassed to face him at all.

I remember myself, stepping towards him. “Of course,” I say softly, waving towards the couch by the hearth.

He smiles and sits, and I can tell he’s just as uncomfortable as I am. We’re both silent for a moment, neither of us sure how to approach the other.

We’re about to get married, and we don’t even know how to have a conversation.

Thor clears his throat. “I just thought it might be good for us to speak, considering…” He shifts uncomfortably. “Well, considering we’re going to be married soon.”

It still sounds so strange, but I smile. “I agree. Do you know when the announcement will be made?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. In the square.”

My mouth goes dry. “And will we make an appearance?”

“Our  _ first  _ appearance,” he corrects. “As the king and queen to be.”

I can’t help but drop my gaze. I don’t want him to see how much his words frighten me. But he cups my cheek, lifting my face to meet his eyes. “Rina, I know this isn't ideal. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t need to do this to please our people.”

I freeze, stunned by the feeling of his hand on my cheek.

“But the world isn’t perfect. And I truly believe this is the only way.”

His eyes are so kind, so warm. His touch is so gentle and sure. In a perfect world, maybe I could love him.

And I realize that although the world is far from perfect, maybe I could in this broken reality, too.

I always assumed I would never find love. I hoped I would, of course, but there are certain things you have to give up in order to rule a planet. Unfortunately, romance was never in the cards for me. But by some twist of fate, my rule now depends on the notion of love. 

I have to get married to secure my crown on my head. And typically, marriage involves a certain degree of feelings. So for a moment, I allow myself to consider the crazy possibility that I could love him. I allow myself to imagine that after years of ruling by each others’ sides, I might feel something for the god of thunder. 

It isn’t ludicrous, right? Haven’t there been moments when my heart raced at the sight of him? Haven’t I wondered if there was something between us that went deeper than friendship?

Maybe not. But I force myself to believe that our marriage could eventually involve love.

_ There is no other way. _

I lean into his touch. “I believe that, too. And I believe it will work.”

He smiles, clearly relieved. “I’m glad we agree.” He hesitates for a second, then pulls me into a hug. My eyes widen in surprise, but my arms fall around him instinctively in response. It only lasts a moment before he pulls away, clearing his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He stands, walking to the door.

Before he leaves, he turns back to me. “Sleep well,” he says. Then he leaves, closing the door behind him.

And I think something in me breaks. 

I stand from the couch, floating over to the closet. I reach back, undoing my dress and letting it fall to the floor. I pull on a black silk robe, and step over to the cupboard where I know there’s a stash of liquors. I pull out a rather large bottle of clear liquid, and though I don’t know what it is, I raise the bottle to my lips and take a large drink. It burns on the way down, but something about it calms me. I can feel it making me numb, and I welcome the sensation.

My feet carry me to the balcony where I sink to my knees, leaning against the railing. I let my eyes drift over the city, the twinkling lights in the windows reminding me of stars. 

And I drink. 

Large mouthfuls that sear my throat less and less as I feel my limbs grow lighter. The taste is wildly unpleasant, but the fog of oblivion that it brings is worth it. My vision glazes somewhat, and the lights of the city begin to smear. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s not the liquor that’s dulling my sight. It’s the tears.

They’re heavy as they drip down my cheeks, holding all the things I wish I could say.  _ I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to marry this way. Or marry at all, for that matter. I don’t love him. I want to, but I don’t. _

I sigh, taking another drink. I just need to cry for a while, and then I’ll get over it. I’ll marry him with my head held high, secure my throne, and rule two worlds instead of one. I’ll be more powerful than before, and I’ll make her proud. “This is okay,” I say softly.

“It doesn’t look okay,” someone says from inside my room. 

I laugh lightly as tears fall from my eyes, the haze of alcohol tilting my emotions into hysteria. “You should really learn to knock,” I say, not bothering to look up. “A prince should have better manners than that.”

“Manners have never been my strong suit.”

I take another swig. “Charming.”

There’s a short silence. Then feet shuffle, and he’s sitting against the railing, facing me. His cold eyes study me, and although they’re the same blue as his brother’s, they’re so different. They’re angrier, calculating, full of mystery. And sadness. But then again, maybe it’s just the alcohol that’s making it look that way.

After a moment, he reaches out towards the bottle. I yank it away, taking another drink. “You’re drunk, Rina,” he insists. “Give me the bottle.”

I pull it away again. “That’s  _ Queen  _ Rina, to you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Make a fool of yourself. I couldn’t care less.”

I laugh bitterly. “Then why are you here?”

He pauses, as if deciding whether or not to explain himself. “I heard about your engagement to my brother,” he says flatly. There’s no emotion in his words.

“And you came here to...what? Check up on me? See how I’m handling it?” I wave the bottle in the air. “Here’s your answer.”

“I didn’t come to check up on you. I came to give you another chance to leave. You clearly don’t want to go through with this,” he says, gesturing to my disheveled appearance, “and I can help you leave with no hard feelings.”

“I’m not leaving,” I say.

He tilts his head, studying me as if I’m a math problem. “You want to marry my brother, then?”

“Yeah.” Another drink. “Yeah, I do.”

He smiles knowingly. “Liar.”

I shake my head, looking back out at the city. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is the only way.”

“To keep your crown.”

I look back at him. “Don’t do that.”

He raises his brows. “Do what?”

“Make me feel guilty for wanting to keep my throne.” 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m simply curious.”

Another sip. “About what?”

He looks out over his city. “Why would you risk all of this? Besides the obvious reason of wanting to keep your power, why would you risk my father’s wrath,  _ my  _ wrath, just to stay queen?” I look over at him briefly, and see the genuine confusion in his expression.

I smile, catching the meaning under his words. “You can’t figure me out,” I laugh, suddenly sure. “You can’t understand why I’m not afraid of you. Why I’ve stayed after all of your threats.”

He shrugs, but I catch the gleam of surprise in his eyes. “Everyone else fears me, and they have less to lose.”

All the humour of catching him in a moment of weakness drains away at his words. I raise the bottle to my lips with a shaking hand. “You would think so,” I whisper, almost to myself. Fresh tears prick my eyes. “But this is all I have left. All I have to fight for.” 

He scoffs. “Nonsense. You’re one of the most powerful of your kind. You’re skilled and intelligent, and even if you lose your throne, people will always adore you.”

“And I still have nothing,” I say simply. “Those things don’t matter. They’re just material. Meaningless. Empty.”

He looks taken aback. For a moment, I wonder if his words were meant to assure himself. He wants to believe he’s powerful, skilled and intelligent, and he’d like to know that people would still love him if he wasn’t their prince.

But Loki and I are one in the same. Leaders born from darkness. Respected out of fear, not love.

I can feel the liquor tearing away at my inhibitions, making me say things I would never share with the god of mischief. And although the sane part of me still screams its warnings, some part of me wants him to give him his answer.

He’s afraid. And he wants to know why I’m not.

“I owe it to my mother to honour her legacy,” I say softly. “She was my world, and now she’s gone. All I have left is making her proud. I’m nothing without my crown.”

Something in his steely expression changes, and I can tell that he understands. Somehow, this plan of his is all that matters to him. It’s all he has left. He has to succeed, just like I have to keep my throne.

I still don’t know what his plan is. But maybe the liquor has made me believe that I can bluff someone who can sniff out lies like a bloodhound.

I take another swig. “And what about you?” I ask. “Why is your plan so important to you?”

He shakes his head. “Do not take me for a fool, Rina.”

I shrug. “I told you my motives. And I’m probably too drunk to remember yours, anyway.”

He nods. “You  _ are  _ quite drunk. But I’m not.” He stands, walking towards the door.

And maybe it’s the fact that he’s put me through hell since the moment I showed up here, or maybe it’s the fact that I don’t know why. But I stand and walk after him. “Tell me,” I say.

He pauses by the door, looking at the ceiling in exasperation. “Rina-”

“Tell me.”

“Leave it alone.”

“Tell me!” I shout, throwing the bottle at the wall beside him. It shatters and splashes onto the floor, but he doesn’t flinch, which only makes my liquor-fueled anger surge. “Tell me why you hate me so much. Tell me why you need me gone. Tell me why!”

He tilts his head slightly, and somehow I know that I’ve given away how little I know of his plans. Something I said tipped him off. But he just shakes his head. 

He won’t tell me. I tried to bluff him, and I lost whatever leverage I had.

I laugh bitterly. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I told you everything and thought that you cared.” I step over to the cabinet, grabbing a fresh bottle of liquor. I pull out the cork, but his hand closes around the top before I can take a sip. 

“You’re upset,” he says softly. “My father forced you into something. He’s controlling you because he knows you don’t have any other choice.” I look up at him, and catch a glimpse of the first genuine look he’s ever given me. And even though my veins are still heavy with alcohol, I know I’m not imagining the sadness in his irises. “I know how that feels,” he says. “And I just want to be free of it. Of him.”

I draw my brows, confused at his words.  _ How did he just make my engagement about him?  _

He pulls the bottle from my hands, and I don’t fight him. “Get some rest,” he says. “You’re appearing in front of Asgard tomorrow.”

And with that, he leaves.

———

The covers are warm and heavy, and it helps calm the violent spinning in my head.

The liquor soon made me feel nauseous, but I didn’t let myself crawl into bed before my face was cleaned of tears and the alcohol and broken glass was cleared from the floor.

My breakdown was supposed to be isolated and secret. No one can know how upset I am about the engagement.

So with a clean room and face, I slipped under my covers. And as I closed my eyes to block out the careening vision before me, I found myself lingering on Loki’s words. 

Anyone with eyes would be able to tell that the younger prince and his father don’t have the best relationship. It’s clear that Odin and Thor are much closer, and Loki often looks and acts like an outsider in their family. So it doesn’t surprise me that Loki feels manipulated and controlled by his father. But why would he tell me that?

Maybe he just needed to get it off of his chest, and he figured I was too drunk to remember. Maybe he just wanted to make me feel less pathetic about spilling my guts to him. Maybe he wanted to give me the smallest insight into his plan to get me off of his back.

_ “And I just want to be free of it. Of him.” _

And that’s when it hits me.

All I know about Loki’s plan is that the alliance somehow stands in the way, a woman who can see through Loki’s illusions needs to be eliminated, and someone is going to die.

And I’m suddenly sure, with every fibre of my being, that the someone is him.

Loki is planning to escape his father. And he’s going to die to do it.


	7. this race is a prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rina tries to cope with her engagement to Thor.   
> Somehow, Loki helps.  
> But then disaster strikes, and she’s left questioning everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i’m very proud of how quickly i wrote this chapter, i hope you guys like it!  
> let me know what you think xx

“Your Majesty?” a timid voice asks as my door creaks open.

I recognize that voice. Aldon.

My eyes fly open and I sit up, the sharp movement slapping me with a splitting headache. I guess there are drawbacks to alcohol, after all.

“Your Majesty?” Aldon asks again, more concerned this time. He rushes over to my bedside. “Are you alright?”

I blink and exhale, trying to ground myself despite the violent spinning that remains in my sight. I press my fingers to my temples, hoping to alleviate some of the throbbing with a gentle massage. “Yes, Aldon,” I say softly. “I’m alright.”

I see his expression shift from concern to understanding in a split second. He relaxes, realizing my messy state is no emergency, and sits on the edge of my bed. “You were drinking?”

Oh, how well he knows me. Even with the remnants of the broken bottle gone and the tear stains washed from my cheeks, Aldon somehow still knows exactly what happened. 

I nod. “I didn’t mean to. I set out to have only a few sips, but then…” I shake my head, disappointed in myself. “I got carried away. I swear, I didn’t mean to. I know how important this morning is-” My eyes widen with realization. “This morning!” I struggle to free myself from the covers. “Oh, Aldon. I’m going to be late to the announcement!”

He sets his hand on my shoulders, stilling my movements. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. There’s plenty of time before the announcement.”

I sigh with relief. “Then…” A thought begins to form in my mind. “Why are you here?” 

His cheeks redden slightly. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He fidgets with his fingers. “They wouldn’t let me see you yesterday.”

I raise my brows, surprised by his words. It’s not totally ludicrous that the king had some sort of guard watching me after what happened in the village. But I never agreed to that, and if I had known, I definitely would have made it clear that Aldon was an exception. I would have rather seen him than Thor and Loki. I guess the princes would have been able to get past any guards at my door, but my advisor would have been a much greater comfort to me than either of them.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I had no idea I was being protected.”

Aldon nods. “The king had a team sent to your door the night before last.” He looks upset, and it warms my heart that he’s genuinely concerned about me. 

I rest a hand on his. “If I had known, I would have told them to let you in.”

He smiles. “I know.”

I run a hand through my hair. “And I appreciate your concern, but I’m perfectly fine.”

“You weren’t injured?”

I shake my head. “No. Thor protected me.”

His eyes gleam. “Then I guess you’re lucky to have him as your husband.”

I blink, trying to force a smile. “Yes, I am.”

He draws his brows in confusion. His eyes shift over mine before a knowing look comes over his face. He nods. “This isn’t what you want.”

I swallow.  _ How does he do that? _ “What?”

“You don’t want to marry him.” And one look into his eyes reminds me of what I already know. What I’ve known since the day I was born. 

I can’t lie to Aldon. I never could. He knows me better than anyone.

My gaze drops. “No, I don’t.”

“Then why would you agree?”

I bite my lip, fighting off the hunger for another sip of alcohol. Talking about my impending marriage makes me want to drown in another bottle of unknown liquor. “For this alliance,” I say softly. “For her.” Saying it out loud makes it sound so much worse.

But when I look back at him, he’s smiling. There’s a tinge of sadness for me in his gaze, but mostly pride. He lays a hand on my shoulder.

“She would be proud of you. You’ve given up so much for Alfheim. Wherever she is, I know she’s proud of what you’re doing.”

A tear begs to fall from my eye. “You think?”

“I know,” he says, and pulls me into a tight hug. The comfort of having him near almost makes me crumble. I think sometimes, I take Aldon for granted. But when I really consider who he is and all he’s done for me, I realize how much he means to me. He’s family- the only family I have left. I hug him tighter.

“Aldon,” I say quietly.

“Hm?” He pulls away.

“Will you be there? At the announcement? I don’t think I can do it without you.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Some of my nerves lift with his words. “And will you help me pick out a dress?”

“Of course.”

———

Half an hour later, I’m ready to announce my engagement to the god of thunder.

I made a subtle comment to Aldon that I wanted a dress with a high neck and long sleeves. I could tell he was confused by my change in taste, but I merely stated that I wanted to look conservative for the announcement. That seemed to do the trick, and he picked the perfect gown for the occasion.

The neckline wraps straight along the base of my neck, and although my throat is exposed, there are no bruises there, and the dress still covers the marks on my collarbone and shoulders. The sleeves are long and puffy, made of a sheer material that’s just opaque enough to hide my bruises. The sleeves gather tightly at the wrists and shoulders, but the material bulges out along my arms.

The bodice and skirt fit like a tunic, falling loosely on my frame, just brushing the ground at my feet. The dress is overlayed with the same sheer material as the sleeves, giving the whole gown a slight shimmer.

And it’s white. Stark white like snow. Almost like a preview of how I’ll look on the day I marry the Asgardian prince.

A silver crown rests on my head, free of jewels or stone. Its delicate design resembles leafy branches entwined to form the headpiece, and the detail is a statement in itself.

I move to the mirror and take it in. I really could be getting married with the way I’m dressed. Aldon’s face smiles behind me in the reflection.

“You look perfect,” he says. “He’ll be falling all over you.”

I laugh tightly. I know he’s just poking fun, and a day ago, the thought of Thor drooling over me would have made me blush. But now, when I have to picture a future as his wife… the thought makes me want to climb on my spaceship and never come back to this beautiful and horrible planet.

Aldon holds out his arm to me. “Shall we?”

I slip my arm into his, and he leads me towards the square. I faintly notice the guards roaming my hall that follow loosely behind us as we go, and I realize they must be my protective detail. 

My mind blanks the whole time we drift through the tunnels. Aldon doesn’t try to make conversation, and I thank him for that. I just need some semblance of peace before my freedom is snatched away like a feather in the wind. So I let my mind fall free of all thoughts, clinging to Aldon’s arm like a lifeline until we reach a crowd of people at the doors to the square.

Strangely enough, my eyes find Loki first. I’m sure if I still had half a mind, I wouldn’t have been searching for him. But I’ve pretty much lost my head, so I let my gaze linger on the god of mischief. 

And even stranger, his eyes are trained on me. 

For a moment, we hold each other’s’ gaze. I should be embarrassed to see him after the fool I was last night, but I’m distracted by the look on his face as he studies my white dress.

I’m sure if I still had half a mind, I wouldn’t mistake his look for jealousy.

“You look lovely, Your Highness.” Thor steps into my line of sight, looking radiant in a black long-sleeved tunic that’s detailed with shimmering golden designs.

Aldon’s arm slips from mine, but he remains firmly by my side. His presence steadies me, and I smile up at the prince. “As do you, Your Highness.”

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I tilt my head. “I think so. Although I must admit, I  _ am _ a bit nervous.”

He gives me an incredulous look. “Why? The people will be ecstatic!”

I chew my lip. “Not all of the people.”

He shakes his head. “Everything will be fine, I promise. The few people who don’t adore you will come around once they hear the news.”

I draw a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am,” he says, and slips his hand into mine. My heart lurches at the touch.

He leads me over to the doors, positioning us behind the king and Loki. Aldon stands off to the side, staying as close as he can, and keeps his eyes unwaveringly on me. “My father will make the announcement,” Thor says, “and then we’ll step in front so the people can see us together.” 

I nod, but my eyes are on Aldon, striving for any sense of peace. He nods reassuringly, and I try to take comfort in the fact that he’ll be only a few paces behind me once we emerge.

“...and then the guards will...Rina?”

“Hm?” I tear my eyes away, turning to him. His blue eyes are bright with concern. “Are you alright?”

I nod. “Yes. Just nervous.”

He squeezes my hand. “Everything will be fine.”

And I try to believe him.

But the doors are opening.

———

You would think I would be used to the cheers of the Asgardian people by now, but the sound is still deafening.

And in my head, I know their cheers are born from adoration. But all I can hear is the shouts that destroyed me not long ago.

“Liar!”

“We’ll never stand for a Dark Elf as an ally!” 

“No daughter of Malekith will rule me!”

“You can rot in Hel for what your family has done!”

It’s almost enough to make me cover my ears and curl up on the ground.

But instead, I lift my chin into the air, willing the screams to warp back into their true form.  _ They love you, remember? _

“I love you, Queen Rina!”

“Your Majesty, over here!”

As their love becomes clear, I find the strength channeling back into my body. And just in time, because as King Odin begins to speak, their screams die down until only his voice remains.

“People of Asgard!” he shouts. “We’ve gathered you here today to announce some very big news.”

The crowd murmurs excitedly in response, and I have to make a conscious effort to not break Thor’s hand.

“As you all know, my son will soon assume the throne of Asgard.” 

The king wasn’t lying when he said the people had been growing anxious. Many faces contort into worry or disappointment at his words. “I know many of you have been worried about the integrity of his rule without a queen by his side. But fear not, for my son has chosen a bride!”

The crowd dissolves into gasps and shouts of excitement.  _ Just wait,  _ I think.  _ You won’t be so happy once you find out who it is. _

“So without further or do, may I present my son, Prince Thor, and his future wife, Queen Rina Featherwine of Alfheim!”

The people explode into a mess of screams. Most are joyful, and it lifts my spirits. But I don’t miss the outraged cries, the people who are devastated and angered by this news.

But the king is stepping aside, and I can’t focus on their outrage now. Because we’re walking forward, hands joined, right into the centre of the square. And the people are going crazy, the news of our engagement turning the crowd into a writhing, chaotic mixture of love and hatred. Rose petals are being thrown at our feet, and Thor is lifting our joined hands into the air. I’m forcing myself to smile, forcing myself to act as though I’m delighted. And the screams only get louder.

And he’s looking at me.

Behind me, out of the corner of my eye, I can see his icy eyes cast on me. Without thinking, I turn to look at him, and somehow find peace in his gaze. It’s still the same as when we first met. Hateful, devious, secretive and cruel.

Everything is wrong. Life is flipped upside down and nothing makes sense. Thor is my fiancé. My mother is gone. My crown is hanging by a thread. But at least, amidst all of the chaos, Loki is still Loki. And that small semblance of steadiness is good enough for me.

It’s strange to find peace in someone who wants me dead.

But here I am, my eyes locked on his, trying to drown out the lies and focus on the one thing that hasn’t changed.

Loki’s head lowers in a ghost of a nod. Almost reassuring, if I didn’t know who he truly is. Still, it gives me enough strength to pull away, turning my attention back to the raging crowds.

_ They love you. You’re winning back your throne. _

And that may be true. They may love me.

But standing here, my hand joined in his, I can’t help but think of how much I don’t love him.

And I don’t know if I ever will.

———

It has been decided that I should journey home for a few days.

I’ll make the announcement to Alfheim, try and gage their response, and spend a couple of days ironing out the wrinkles. Convincing those who think it’s too little too late that this will work. Convincing those who hate me that I’m giving up everything for them.

Then I’ll journey back to Asgard, where I’ll spend a week or so working out the details of the wedding.

And ten days from today, he’ll be my husband.

It would be too much to handle if I had let myself process any of it. But I decided, after the announcement in the square, that I wouldn’t let any information about the marriage sink deeper than my skin. Every comment gets brushed away like dust. Because if I let myself think about it, I’ll spiral.

So I’ve allowed my wedding as much importance as a trip to the market. If it’s meaningless, I don’t have to care.

I’m doing this out of necessity, not luxury. Obligation, not love.

Pretending anything else would only be a lie.

My outfit for the journey home is a perfect mix of comfortable and regal. The material is soft and muted, in the most wonderful shade of sage green. The sleeves are long and the neck is high, perfectly covering my healing wounds. The bodice is tight on my upper half, but the skirt flares out at my waist. It stops just above my knees, saving me from struggling with miles of material. My hair is drawn into a high ponytail, my strands falling in their natural ringlets. I wear the silver pendant pressed with the mark of Alfheim, and my silver heels match perfectly.

“Are you ready, my lady?” Aldon asks.

I shift back to reality, turning to him with a smile. “You know, I’ve been begging you to just call me Rina for years.”

He nods. “I know. But you are my queen. And you deserve more respect than that.”

His words are so similar to the ones spoken by Koll and Bram, the servants who carried my luggage only a few days ago, that I almost gasp. Was it really only three days ago that I arrived here? 

So much has happened. So much has changed.

Was it really worth it?

I push away my thoughts with a shake of my head. “I’m not just your queen, Aldon. I’m your friend. And as such, you may call me Rina.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” he says, “I think I’ll stick with the formalities. It’s what I did for your mother, and I’d like to honour you with the same dignity.”

My heart swells. Sometimes, amidst all the hate from my people, I think that I forget what being a queen entails. I’m entitled to the same respect as my mother. The same dignity. 

Sometimes, I forget that I’m worthy of decency at all.

Tears threaten to spill over my cheeks, and I look down to hide the shine on my eyes. “Thank you,” I say quietly.

Aldon smiles, bowing slightly. “It is my pleasure, Your Majesty.” He holds out his arm. “Shall we?”

I laugh lightly, taking his arm, basking in the familiarity of his presence. Earlier in the square, I found comfort in the fact that Loki hadn’t changed, even when everything else had. But I was wrong.

Because Aldon hasn’t changed. He’s been loyal to me since the day I was born. He never wavered, even when everyone else on my planet sought to dethrone me. He never resented my connection to Malekith, even when that’s all anyone else could see.

He’s always guided me in the right direction. He’s always treated me with the same respect that he treated her. He’s always been my rock.

If I really think about it, Aldon is the only father I’ve ever known. 

I pull a little tighter to him, thankful for his never-changing, steadfast presence. 

We emerge through the grand doors of the palace, stepping down the stairs. Crowds of people line the walkway to our ship, and I’m reminded of our walk towards the palace not so long ago. Some people cry out, saddened by our departure. Others are excited just to see us.

But as I look closer, I see something that makes my blood run cold. Behind the crowds of cheering people, others don’t look so enchanted by us. Dozens of people stand silent, arms crossed over their chests, hateful looks in their eyes.

And I begin to wonder if maybe, it’s not just one region of Asgardians who hate me. Maybe, during the tour and my first walk through the crowds, not everyone was cheering for me. Maybe the ones who hate me were always scattered across the population, but their silent stares were just overwhelmed by the excited cheers.

Maybe it’s not just one region of hundreds. Maybe more people here hate me than I thought.

I straighten, determined to look confident, even if I’m breaking on the inside. I can see the ship up ahead, the massive white sphere glinting in the sunlight. I try to touch as many hands as possible and return as many smiles as I can, hoping to keep however many people I can on my side.

We reach the ship, and I’m relieved by the reality of peace and quiet in a few moments. I place my hand on the sleek metal, and the space around my fingers glows yellow for a moment before morphing into green. The door slides open, and my heart picks up with the notion of home.

“Wait!” someone calls. “Queen Rina!”

My foot falters as it moves into the ship. I turn, and see Thor walking briskly towards me, a bright smile on his face.

I look at Aldon with confusion, but he smiles knowingly. “Go,” he says. “I’ll get the ship set up.”

I look from Thor to Aldon again, confused at what the prince could possibly want badly enough to run after me like a fool. “What-” I shake my head. “Can’t we just go?”

Aldon grabs my hand. “He’s going to be your husband,” he says.

I draw my brows. “I know that.”

He smiles again, clearly knowing something I don’t. “Go.”

“Aldon-” I start, then sigh.  _ What’s the point in arguing with him? He always knows what’s best for me, anyways.  _ “Fine,” I say. “But if he tries to kiss me, I’m calling off the engagement.”

Aldon laughs. “Deal.” He squeezes my hand. “She would be proud of you,” he reminds me.

I smile, stepping away from the ship. Aldon’s hand falls away from mine, and I walk towards Thor.

We meet amidst the crowds, and I can feel hundreds of eyes on us. “What is it?” I ask, trying not to sound too annoyed with him.

He smiles and takes my hand, a tender gesture that makes my skin crawl. “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.”

Several sounds of adoration rise up from the people watching us. Suddenly, Aldon’s behaviour makes sense, and I understand what Thor is doing.

He’s trying to make it look real. He’s trying to make it look like we’re in love.

It really is a smart idea, so I lean into it, grasping his other hand gently. I look into his eyes, feigning adoration. “I’ll only be gone for a couple of days,” I say softly. “And then, it’ll only be a week before we’re married.”

His eyes sparkle. “I’ll be counting the moments.” 

More coos from the crowd.  _ You’re doing it Rina. You’re winning them over. Seal the deal. _

I stand on my toes, my heart racing, and press my lips to his. It’s a whisper of a kiss, gentle and quick, but the crown erupts into cheers. I can almost hear Aldon teasing me.  _ Does this mean you’re going to break off the engagement? _

_ This doesn’t count,  _ I think. He didn’t kiss me. I kissed him.

And although it’s entirely a strategic move, I allow myself to imagine kissing him, just like this, for the rest of our lives. And before I let the idea sink deeper than my skin, I tell myself that it will be great.

We break apart, and I smile, giving my best portrayal of a love struck fool. Thor seems to have the same idea, and he mirrors my goofy expression almost exactly. “I’ll see you soon,” I whisper.

“I’ll be waiting.” 

I step away, turning back to the ship. The door is still open, and I can see Aldon working away inside. He pulls levers and turns dials, readying the craft for our journey home.

His hand hovers over a red button, and I recognize it as the button that starts the engine.

And something shifts in the air.

I feel it like an icy serpent slithering down my spine. A warning.

Something is wrong. Something is so terribly wrong.

His fingers press down on the button, and the icy sensation intensifies, taking my breath away. 

Everything is wrong. Everything is so terribly wrong.

“Aldon!” I scream, but it’s too late. 

The button has been pressed.

The engine roars to life, and there’s a split second where our eyes meet as he hears my cry. And my heart seizes, because in his irises, I see something I’ve only ever seen once before. When he stood over my dying mother.

Fear.

Then the ship explodes, engulfing his body in flames.

And I’m flying, thrown through the air by the blast.

———

When I come to, the first thing I register is the smell of smoke.

My vision is a smeared, blurry mess of colour and movement, and my hearing is overcome by a painful ringing that drowns out all other noises.

But I can still smell the thick, black clouds of smoke that threaten to suffocate me. They choke out the clean air, filling my lungs with their thick, deadly poisons.  _ Get it out. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t- _

A violent cough rattles my body. I writhe on the ground, trying desperately to expel the smoke from my lungs. Sharp inhales flood oxygen back into my body, but the air is tainted with the smoke. The smoke of the ship. 

The smoke of him.

I push myself onto my back, coughs racking through me, stabbing my body with pain. My vision begins to clear, but the ringing persists. I can see the people scattering, their mouths opened in screams. But the sounds are muffled by my shattered eardrums.

Someone’s hand is closing around my arm, trying to pull me to my feet. I rip free, rolling back onto my side, my healing vision beginning to spot with black. 

_ I can’t breathe I can’t breathe- _

This time, an arm slips under my back, propping me up. Another slips under my knees, and I’m lifted into the air, my body cradled against someone else’s. I shout in protest, trying to free myself, but my limbs are weak.

Still, I can’t leave. I have to get to the ship. I have to find him.

“Let me go!” I scream, and I can hear the words coming into focus, rising above the ringing. I kick my useless legs, coughs still shuddering through me. “Please,” I gasp between breaths. “Please, let me go. I have to find him!”

“I’m getting you out of here,” a familiar voice says, and as I look up to the face of my rescuer, I see Thor. “It’s not safe.”

I clutch at his shirt, shaking my head. “No, no. I can’t go. I have to find him.”

Thor purses his lips, and I notice the soot smeared over his face, the blood running from his nose. He looks like he wants to tell me something, but he only shakes his head. “You’re injured, Rina. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Thor, please!”

His eyes shine. “Rina, he’s gone.”

I thrash, outraged. “No!” I kick wildly, writhing like mad in his arms. I jerk to the side, and his grip on me falters. I push off of him, tumbling out of his arms.

“Rina, stop!” he shouts, but I’m already on my feet, running towards the ship.

“Aldon!” I scream. I can’t tell if it’s blood or tears that wet my cheeks. I reach the wreckage, stopping short of the fires that burn all around. “Aldon!” 

It’s horrible and bright and hot. It slaps me in the face and I’m stunned, unable to comprehend what has happened.

Weren’t we just headed home? Wasn’t he just helping me pick out a dress? Wasn’t he just here?

Where is he?

I tremble, covering my mouth. “Where are you?” I sob between my fingers. My hands tangle in my hair, and I let out a strangled scream. “Where are you?”

And in my heart, I know it.

He’s gone.

Thor reaches me, putting a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me away from the flames. But I move away from him, turning towards the castle. Because there’s something else that I know.

Only one person has ever threatened to do something like this to me. I was supposed to be on that ship when it started. I was supposed to die with Aldon. And there’s only one person who has made it clear that he wants me dead.

I exhale shakily, my head pounding and my heart tearing in two.

He’s gone. And I know who is to blame.

I start towards the castle. “Rina-” Thor starts, but I don’t turn back. People scream and run in all directions around me. Guards reach out to me, trying to stop me and see if I’m alright.

Bodies litter the ground around the wreckage. Some of them breathe.

Some of them don’t.

Fire lights up the world as my ship burns in pieces all around. 

But I don’t stop. I take quick steps towards the castle, only one goal in mind. I can feel something dripping from my ears and down the side of my face. Maybe it’s blood.

I don’t care.

I push open the doors of the palace. Maids swarm around me, alerted to the explosion. Some carry medical supplies, others look too fear-stricken to do anything. Many of them catch sight of me, rushing over to see if I’m alright. I push past, and my ignorance silences them. 

I get to my room, walking briskly over to the bed. I pull up a corner of the mattress, revealing twin blades. They’re pure silver and as long as my forearm, deadly to the touch. I left them here for when I would return, and this would be my room once more. 

Now, they’re going to help me kill the god of mischief.

The alliance will dissolve, but I don’t care. He killed Aldon. He tried to kill me.

He deserves to die.

I step into the halls, holding my knives out in the open, no shame. There aren’t many people around. Most of them have left to go help at the scene. Still, I walk fast, hoping to get to Loki before they get to me.

He wouldn’t have left to help anyone. He doesn’t care that much. He’ll be wandering the halls, like always. All I have to do is wander until he finds me.

Like the night of the ball. When he held a knife to my throat.

Except it’ll be his throat this time. And it won’t be an empty threat.

It’s been minutes since I saw or heard anyone. The halls this deep in the castle are dark, only lit by a torch every few feet. And quiet. So quiet, in fact, that I can hear him breathe before he even speaks.

“Rina?”

I turn and throw my knife towards his voice without hesitation. He shouts in alarm, his hand snaking out to catch the blade before it impales itself in his chest. His blue eyes snap up to mine, his face drenched in shock.

He’s surprised, distracted, and I take the opportunity. I rush him, slicing at him with my other knife. He leans back, just avoiding my strike, and stabs at my side with my own blade. I catch his strike, our knives meeting with a metallic clang, and throw his weapon away from me. He keeps his grip on it, and takes another swing towards me. 

I block and slip under his strike, slicing up towards his face. He leans back and spares his head, but he isn’t fast enough to avoid me entirely. My blade slices up his front, carving a deep gash from his stomach to his collarbone.

He hisses and stumbles, a hand coming up to grasp at the wound that already bleeds profusely. His eyes are alarmed, but it’s more than that. I can tell that I’ve hurt him, and not just physically.

The sight fuels me, and I rush him again. He twists out of the way of my first strike and uses his free hand to block my second with his knife. He turns as fast as lightning, and his elbow catches me in the chest. It drives the air from my lungs, and before I can recover, he slams me up against the wall, by body held firmly in place by his strong hands. 

He grits his teeth, the pain breaking a bead of sweat on his forehead. “What are you doing, Rina?” 

I struggle against him, trying to drive my knife into his stomach. I come close, the tip of the blade just touching his skin, but he’s too far away for me to any more. “Get off of me!” I scream. “Get off!”

“I don’t think so,” he says. “You’re trying to kill me, and I’d like to know why.”

I let out a strangled scream, slamming my head back against the wall. “You killed him! You killed Aldon!”

His expression is not what I expected. He looks genuinely surprised at my words. “Who’s Aldon?”

Rage sparks in my blood. I drive my knee into his stomach, hard. He gasps, his grip loosening slightly. I twist out of his grasp and punch him in the face, my fist cracking against his skull. His knife clatters to the ground. “You son of a bitch!” I shout. “You don’t even know his name!”

I grab his shoulders and push him back against the opposite wall, bringing my knife up to his throat in one swift movement. He stills, his breaths shuddering against the sharp edge of my blade. 

I let out a shaky breath. I can feel my hand trembling, either from rage or grief, I don’t know. I know he can feel it too, but he doesn’t let on. “I thought you understood,” I whisper. “I thought you understood how badly I needed this.”

He raises his brows. “I do understand.”

I slam him against the wall again, my knife drawing a drop of blood from his neck. “Then why did you do it?” My voice is barely a breath. 

He swallows. “Do what?”

I grit my teeth, pushing my knife harder against his throat. “Don’t play dumb with me right now,” I say. 

He releases a choked breath. “I’m not playing dumb. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The explosion,” I say. “You thought I’d be on the ship when it blew up. But I wasn’t. He was.” My voice cracks on the words.

Loki studies me. “I didn’t cause the explosion,” he says. 

I laugh bitterly. “I should kill you right now.”

“But I can see why you’d think I did,” he says, ignoring my threat. “I’ve made my intentions clear from the start.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“But my intentions changed.”

“I noticed,” I say. “Instead of trying to get me to leave, you thought you’d just blow me up.”

“I didn’t cause the explosion,” he repeats.

A tear falls from my eye. “You don’t have to lie anymore,” I breathe. “It’s over. The alliance is done. You got what you wanted.”

He hesitates. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “You wanted me to go down with the ship.”

“Rina,” he whispers, his eyes flicking between mine. “I didn’t cause the explosion. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Yes, you would,” I say, my voice quivering. “You said so. You said that if I didn’t leave, you would make me.”

“I know what I said,” he says softly. “But after last night, I thought there might be another way.”

I lick my lips. “And what way is that?”

His eyes dart quickly down to the knife, then back to me. “I thought we could be honest with each other. Work out a deal.”

I falter. “You’re lying. You would never work out a deal with anyone. You just take what you want.”

He nods. “Usually, yes. But you’re not like everyone else. You and I are the same. We’re both born from things and forced into things that we can’t escape. I thought you understood that.”

I try to find the lie in his eyes, but come up empty. “I did,” I whisper.

A small smirk stretches his lips. His hand rises slowly, and closes around the hilt of my knife, right over my fingers. I draw my brows, pushing the knife against his through. “Rina,” he breathes. 

I shake my head, fresh tears bursting from my eyes, and keep my grip strong.

“I’m sorry about Aldon,” he says. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

I close my eyes and exhale, loosening my grip on the knife. Loki pulls it from my hand, and I hear it clang against the ground as he drops it. I keep my eyes closed, tears still slipping down my face. 

After a moment of silence, his hand cups the back of my head, and he draws me to his chest. I bury my face in his shoulder, letting the tears fall freely.

Aldon is gone. But Loki is innocent.


	8. break out from society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rina deals with the aftermath of the explosion, but soon finds that she needs an escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! thank you for the love on the last chapter, it means the world <3  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated, never required :)  
> let me know what you think!

Loki sets his jaw, hissing through his teeth. “Ow.”

I purse my lips. “Sorry.” I try to keep the tremor out of my hand while I guide the needle through his skin, but I’m not exactly the most stable person at the moment.

My advisor is dead. My father figure is gone. I just attacked a completely innocent god and injured him badly. I’m allowed to be a little worn out.

Or maybe, the fact that Loki sits shirtless in front of me, his insanely toned body up to the standard of the gods, is what’s making me nervous.

No, it couldn’t be that.

I take a deep breath and start again, pulling the strong, golden thread through the skin on either side of the gash I made in his torso. He hisses again. “You need to stitch the deepest parts, first,” he says.

“I’m trying.” I shake out my hand, and go back in. I find the deepest part of the gash- right at the base of his ribs- and tie a tight stitch there. 

He flinches. “You’re doing stitches, not tying down a ship! You don’t need to go so tight!”

I huff. “You’re losing a lot of blood. I have to do them tightly.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” I insist. “I know what I’m doing.”

He jerks again as I tie another stitch. “No, you don’t! I could do this better myself.”

I roll my eyes. “Would you shut your mouth? You’re being such a baby.”

He narrows his eyes. “I am  _ not  _ a baby.”

My brows rise. “You could’ve fooled me. You certainly have the pain tolerance of one.”

“I do  _ not _ ,” he mutters. He exhales angrily, but his movements still. Apparently, taunting managed to shut him up. 

I continue stitching, trying to be more gentle. His blood runs warm down my fingers, dripping into my lap and staining my beautiful dress. I would be upset, but the green fabric is already marred by streaks of soot and a coating of dust.

From the explosion.

I try to keep it out of my mind. I try not to think about his hand hovering over the red button. I try to ignore the pain that threatens to crush me flat. 

I try not to think about the fact that I’ll never see him again.

Tears sting my eyes, begging to be released. I can tell Loki sees them by the way his eyes flick up to mine. But to his credit, he doesn’t mention anything.

Even when the first one slips down my cheek.

The silence is so loud. Embarrassment consumes me immediately, and I swipe away the tear, forcing my mind to drift somewhere else.  _ Think about something else. Anything else. _

But the explosion refuses to leave my head. It just replays over and over, the orange flames stretching into the sky, the blast lifting me from the ground. I can’t escape it. So instead of focusing on Aldon, I focus on who is to blame. 

Even though I have no reason to trust Loki, I can somehow feel that he’s telling me the truth. He’s innocent. But no one else has made it as clear that they want me dead. And even though there are many more Asgardians who hate me than I had thought, I can’t imagine that any of them would have the determination or resources to actually attempt murder.

“What are you thinking about?” Loki asks.

“What?” I snap back out of my head, meeting his eyes.

He shrugs as much as he can with my needle in his wound. “You look like you’re deep in thought. I can’t imagine stitches require that much concentration.” He smirks. “Then again, maybe for you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not concentrating on the stitches.”

He raises his brows. “That’s somewhat concerning.”

I punch him lightly in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

His eyes gleam mischievously. “Then what is it?”

I shake my head. “As if you care.”

He tilts his head. “I don’t. But hiding out in the wine cellar getting stitched up is surprisingly boring.” 

I wouldn’t exactly call what we’re doing boring. After I attacked him and realized he was innocent, he nearly passed out from blood loss. I barely managed to keep him on his feet, and I went to the only place I knew in the castle where I thought no one would find us. 

I could have just let him die, but maybe I told myself that it would be wise to at least try and keep the alliance together. It’s what my mother and Aldon would want. And if anyone knew that I murdered the prince for no reason, whatever leverage I have would be gone.

Or maybe, I thought of the way he stitched me up after the ambush in the village. The way he saved my life. And maybe, I thought it was only fair if I returned the favour.

So despite knowing nothing about doing stitches, I’m doing my best to fix what I’ve broken.

“Humour me,” he says. “What’s on your mind?”

I have no desire to make small talk with the god of mischief. But despite our circumstances being extraordinarily strange, I can’t disagree entirely with Loki. It is sort of boring down here, and the dead silences are raising my nerves, which just makes my hands shake more. 

I sigh and look away, pausing my stitches. “If it wasn’t you, who was it? I mean really, nobody else makes sense. Who else would have the motive and the power and the resources to-”

_ To kill Aldon.  _

My words falter.

Loki spares me the awkward silence. “It could have been anyone, really. Your ship was always guarded, but among all of the commotion of the tour, it wouldn’t have been too hard to slip through.”

I nod, grateful that he didn’t linger on my break. “You’re probably right,” I start stitching again, trying to busy my mind and not think of him. “I know there’s a lot of people here who don’t like me. It could have been any of them.”

“Or all of them.”

I blink. “What? What do you mean?” He winces as I accidentally yank a stitch in surprise. I cringe. “Sorry.”

He releases a painful breath. “I mean that’s what I would do. If I knew there were crowds of other people who shared my views, I’d try and arrange a...revolution, of sorts.”

I scoff. “Blowing up one ship is hardly a revolution.”

“I said ‘of sorts’.”

I pull another stitch into place. “So you think all of the people who hate me have banded together?”

He shrugs. “Possibly. With all of them working together, it would be easy for one of them to sneak some sort of device onto your ship or tinker with the wiring. It would certainly be a good idea on their part.”

I swallow. “Yeah, it was. It worked.”

He stills, catching his mistake. “No, it didn’t,” he says softly. I can tell he’s looking at me, but I can’t meet his eyes. I don’t think I could deal with his false pity right now. “Their goal was to kill you, not Aldon. And you’re still here. They failed.”

I feel the urge to cry again, but force it down, hoping to cling to what little dignity I have left. “For now,” I say. “They failed for now. But they’ll try again.”

He sits up straighter. “So that’s it, then? You’re ending the alliance?” I can almost hear the relief in his voice.

“Don’t celebrate just yet,” I say. “I still have to explain all of this to your father.”

He nods. “He’ll understand. He might be a little upset that my brother will be brideless, but he’ll understand. Eventually.”

“Thanks for the reassurance,” I say, and I can tell he notices the sharp edge to my voice.

He shakes his head. “Rina-”

“Save it,” I clip, tying off my last stitch. “Save your false pity. You’re getting what you always wanted. Don’t pretend that you’re sad for me.”

He absorbs the look on my face. “I’m not sad,” he admits. “I’m angry.”

I laugh bitterly, wrapping his torso in bandages. “That you weren’t the one to send me away?” 

“That it’s happening this way.”

I scoff. “Oh, please. You would’ve done the same thing if someone else hadn’t beaten you to it. I know all those lies about honesty and working out a deal were just that. Lies.”

He looks offended. “Have you ever known me to lie to you?”

I almost laugh. This is the god of mischief. Lying must be as easy as blinking for him. 

His eyes darken as he looks at me, reading my thoughts like a book. “I’ve never lied to you, Rina. Not once.”

And he seems so sure. The look in his eyes is unwavering, confident. So confident, in fact, that I quickly rack my own mind for any lies he’s told me. And I almost come up empty.

But there’s one time I know for a fact that he was lying.

“Yes, you have,” I say, tying off the bandage. He narrows his eyes in confusion. “The night you saved my life,” I clarify. “I asked you why you were helping me. And you told me that it was because if I died, you would have gotten in trouble. But you were lying.”

He raises his chin, considering my words. “That wasn’t a lie.”

I roll my eyes, annoyed, and throw his torn, blood-stained shirt at him. “Fine. Believe whatever you want. I couldn’t care less.” I stand, turning to leave.

Shuffling noises and grunts of pain sound behind me. “Rina, wait,” Loki demands.

I keep walking. “I don’t take orders from you.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, just-” The mess of noises behind me intensifies, accompanied by several groans. I sigh and turn briefly, seeing him struggling to stand, cradling the wall for support. His face is pale and sweaty, and he looks like he could use about three weeks of bed rest. But he’s fighting to his feet, trying to stumble after me.

“You’ll tear your stitches,” I call. “All my hard work will go to waste.”

He finally gains his footing, ignoring my comment. His legs straighten, and he walks over to me with surprising composure. His aura is commanding and alluring, even with a two foot gash on his torso. He comes closer than he should, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. Close enough that I can see his rapid heartbeat at the base of his throat.

Close enough that if I wanted to, I could stand on my toes and kiss him.

He doesn’t speak. He just studies me with his unforgiving stare as the silence wraps around us. He looks at me with a mixture of anger and shock, like he’s finally met his match. His breathing is laboured, harsh wheezes that sound like they hurt. He should be resting. But he’s not.

He’s here, staring at me.

I don’t miss the way his eyes flit briefly to my lips.

But nothing he can do can shake me. I have the upper hand here, not him. He’s injured. I’m not. He’s a prince. I’m a queen.

So I stare him down, letting my expression fall void of all emotion.

_ You don’t scare me. _

A ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Alright,” he breathes. “I was lying.”

A confession from the god of mischief. A fault in the Prince of Asgard. His words fuel my ego in a strange way. I’d be willing to bet this is unfamiliar territory for him. I’d be willing to bet this is the first time he’s admitted he was wrong. “I know,” I say.

His smirk stretches. “Do you want to know the truth?”

He wants the upper hand back. He’s not used to having someone else hold the power. He wants me to ask him, beg him, for the truth. But I just shrug. “I don’t really care. I’ll be gone by morning, anyways, and I’ll never have to think of you again.”

The glint in his eyes says he doesn’t believe me. “Do you want to know the truth?” he repeats.

I let a smirk of my own work its way onto my face. “Not badly enough to beg you.” I step around him, stooping down to pick up the shirt he left on the floor. “Here,” I say, tossing it at him again. “If you tell anyone that your injuries were caused by me, I’ll track you down and finish the job.”

With that, I wind through the maze of the cellar, a smug grin on my face.

_ Rina one, Loki zero. _

———

It’s only an hour later, once I've washed up and changed my clothes, that someone comes barging into my room.

I jump, not used to the harsh entrance. Thor does a double take when he sees me, his eyes widening. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He rushes over to me, gathering me in a tight hug. “Everyone was so worried.”

I hug him back, still faking my affection for him. “I’m alright,” I say, my words muffled in his shoulder.

He pulls me back, holding my shoulders, taking in the sight of me, my wet hair. “Did you...bathe?”

I blink. “Yes. I was filthy.”

His hands drop and he stares at me in confusion. “Your ship exploded, you disappeared, the whole kingdom was looking for you, and you were...bathing?”

_ What is so hard to understand about this?  _ “Yes.”

He shakes his head. “Was it too much to ask for you to let someone know that you were safe?”

I bite my lip. It  _ does  _ seem a bit strange. I can’t tell him the real reason I was gone and why I needed to wash myself of blood, or I’ll be arrested and probably executed for attempted murder of the prince. So I decide to just go with the easier option, and blame it on grief.

“It’s just…” I force my voice to crack, swiping at my dry eyes. “I wasn’t thinking. Aldon’s gone. Somebody killed him.” I push the tears into my eyes. “And I just wanted to get the dirt and the blood off of me. I just wanted to forget. I’m so sorry, Thor. I should’ve told you, but I just-” I break my words off with a sob.

His expression quickly changes from confused anger to sympathetic guilt. He exhales shamefully. “Of course,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Rina.” He steps forward and wraps me in another hug.

I sniffle into his shoulder, letting the sobs rack through me, finding that they aren’t entirely fake. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “What can I do for you?”

I pull back, brushing the tears away. “How many people…”

Thor’s expression darkens, understanding what I mean. “Nine,” he says. “Including Aldon.”

My heart seizes. Nine people died in the explosion. Eight unlucky souls were standing just a little too close to our ship, and Aldon was trapping helplessly and obliviously inside. Eight other families are mourning. Eight other lives were taken today.

Trying to get to me.

I look down, trying to contain myself. “Rina,” Thor says softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

He really is an amazing person. So sweet and gentle and kind. Protective when it’s needed, loyal to the end. Compassionate. Moral. Good.

And it’s because he’s so good that I don’t want to hurt him. Even if calling off the engagement will anger his father more than him, I don’t even want to imagine hurting Thor. He deserves so much better than me. He deserves the world.

I just can’t give it to him.

“Can I be honest with you?” I ask. “Because there’s only one thing that I need right now.”

He nods. “Name it.”

_ Stop being so kind. You’re making this so much harder. _

I take a breath, shaking my head. “I can’t do this.”

He tilts his head. “The marriage? The alliance?”

My voice lowers to a whisper. “Any of it.”

Thor draws his brows. “Because of the explosion?”

“Because of the people.” I run a nervous hand through my hair. “They’ll never accept me. They don’t want me here, and it’s clear that they’re willing to do anything to get me to leave.”

He shakes his head sadly. “That’s only a few people-”

“It’s more than you realize,” I cut him off. “More than any of us realized.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly noticing the chill in the air. “They’ve been hiding in the crowds. I should’ve noticed them sooner, but I didn’t.”

“What happened isn’t your fault.”

I smile wistfully. “That’s kind of you to say. Regardless, it’s too late for Aldon. But it’s not too late for me. I won’t just wait around here to get murdered.”

“We’ll protect you.”

“Like you protected him?”

He swallows and looks down, and I instantly regret my words. “I’m sorry,” I rush. “I didn’t mean that. I know you did your best to protect us.” I purse my lips, beating myself up. “But it doesn’t change the fact that someone still got through. Someone still managed to rig our ship to blow. I would’ve been killed in the blast if you hadn’t called my name.”

He paces a few steps, then looks back at me. “So this is it? You’re calling off the engagement? Ending the alliance?”

I nod slowly. “Yes.”

“Is that really what you want?”

I shrug. “I don’t really know what I want. But I know that this is what’s best for everyone.”

He studies me. “You’ll lose your throne.”

“I wouldn’t really know how to lead without Aldon, anyways.”

And it’s true. Even if I preserved the alliance and kept my crown, it wouldn’t be long before everything fell apart without him. Every decision I made had his guidance. Every morning that I placed the crown on my head, he was there to straighten it.

“Just…” The god of thunder takes my hand. “Don’t make any final decisions yet. You’re upset. I understand. But give it a few days, alright? We’ll figure out who was behind the explosion, and then you can decide if you still want to end the alliance.”

I look up at him, unsure. “I don’t think that would be wise,” I say slowly.

“Please,” he says. “Just give it a few days.” His eyes are so bright and kind, so full of life. He really wants to preserve the alliance. It’s important to him. And after everything he’s done for me, don’t I owe it to him to at least try?

I sigh. “Okay. Three days. If we haven’t found the culprit by then, I’m gone.”

Thor nods. “Three days.”

———

Hours later, I lie awake in bed.

It’s not that I don’t want to fall asleep. I’ve wished for sleep with everything in me, praying for the walls to collapse in on me so I can float in oblivious oblivion. So I can forget the horrible events of the day.

But every time I close my eyes, his burnt, bloodied form dances behind my lids. The charred body of my lifeless advisor haunts me, keeping me firmly planted on the edge of consciousness.

It’s like a terrible, torturous carousel that I can’t get off of and I can’t stop.

I throw my covers off, angry at my mind’s refusal to let me have some peace.  _ I need to get out of here, _ I think.  _ I need to go. _

‘Where’ is a question for later. I whisk over to my closet, where the luggage that wasn’t burned in the blast has been neatly organized for me. The majority of my clothes were destroyed, but some maids came by to restock my wardrobe with spare gowns and other items once it was decided that I would be staying. There’s still a great deal of luxurious items, but they’ve had the decency to spare me a few more casual items, as well.

I take off my silk robe and pull on a plain, black tunic with long, puffy sleeves and a straight neckline. The cloth material ends at my ankles, covering almost every inch of my body. 

I wrap a deep green cloak around my shoulders, drawing the hood up to hide my hair. I pull on a pair of dark brown leather boots, and study myself in the mirror.

The fabric of my tunic is not that of a queen. It’s plain and inexpensive, free of details or designs. My cloak is a finer material, but a simple cloak all the same. My identity is perfectly hidden under these clothes.

I slip a sheath on each on my thighs, strapping a knife into both for peace of mind.

The palace guards will never let me leave in the middle of the night, especially not after what happened today. So I’ll have to use my disguise and a great deal of sneaking to escape the castle walls.

I slip out of my room, turning right down the hall. Not many people roam the halls at this hour. I can hear quiet voices of guards far behind me, probably guarding the main stairs to this floor. The soft soles of my boots are silent against the marble, and my clothes hang high enough off of the ground that the material doesn’t make a sound against the floor. 

I step past Aldon’s room, careful to keep my eyes trained straight ahead.

I take a right turn, heading towards where I know there’s a private stairwell that goes all the way to the basement. I close the door behind me without a noise, stepping carefully down the steps.

I emerge onto the ground floor, checking all around me before I step out. This particular stairwell deposits me deep in the castle, where I hope no guards or maids will be walking. The corridors are dark and void of all life.

I take a chance and turn left, moving seamlessly and silently. I try to imagine the layout of the castle in my mind. I must admit, even after living here for days, I’m still painfully unfamiliar with the space. I really only know how to get to the ballroom, the wine cellar, the garden, and the front doors. Everything else is just an educated guess.

It doesn’t take me long to realize that I’m lost in the maze of hallways. I tried to walk in the direction of the western wall, where I know the least populated part of the city lies. I was hoping the exit there would be guarded the lightest, or possibly not at all.

But it doesn’t matter. Because I can’t find it.

I stop walking, taking a moment to try and concentrate and get my bearings. I look straight ahead.  _ This is west, isn’t it?  _ In truth, I really have no idea anymore. I could be walking straight down without realizing it at this point.

I sigh and lean against the wall, bringing my fingers up to rub the ache out of my temples.  _ I just want to get out of this place. I just want to leave these walls. _

“You look lost.”

I would’ve been startled if it wasn’t so common at this point. “Seriously?” I call into the darkness. “Are you following me now?”

Loki strides up to me, a devious glint in his eyes. “You wouldn’t be down here if you didn’t want me to find you.” He takes in my appearance- the plain tunic, the cloak, and the exchange of delicate heels for leather boots- and raises his brows. “Or I’m completely wrong.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time today,” I say.

He smirks, stepping closer. “I thought the alliance was still intact. I thought you had promised my brother you would stay.”

“I’m not leaving.” He tilts his head, gesturing to my clothes. “Permanently,” I add. “I just need some air.”

“But you’re lost,” he guesses.

I cross my arms. “I am  _ not  _ lost. I know exactly where I’m going.”

“And where is that?”

I raise my chin. “The west exit.”

He nods, a smug smirk on his lips.

I roll my eyes and huff. “What? What is it?”

“You couldn’t be further from the west wing, love.”

_ And after you acted so confident… _

I straighten, fighting to keep the blush out of my cheeks. “I know that. I was just...looking for something.”

“Ah, yes,” he says. “Well, you let me know when you find it. I’ll be at the west exit, where there isn’t a single guard posted.” He walks past me, going back the way I just came. 

I look up at the ceiling, gathering my strength. On the one hand, I would rather die than ask Loki for help. On the other hand, I might actually die if I don’t get out of this god-forsaken building soon. I clench my jaw and shake my head, already disappointed in myself. “Loki,” I say, and I hear his feet halt. I turn to him, and his expression is so arrogant that I almost bite back my words. I sigh angrily. “Show me the way.”

He clicks his tongue at me. “What’s the magic word?”

“Nope,” I say, turning to go. “Not worth it.”

“Not worth your freedom?”

I falter, biting back a scream. He is so  _ infuriating. _ I look back at him. 

“Just one little word,” he sings.

“I could stab you right now.”

He shrugs. “You already have. I’ve sustained much worse.”

I scoff, digging my fingernails so hard into my palms that I can feel the skin beginning to bruise. Even though I hate him with everything inside of me, I know I can’t find my way out of these halls without him. “Please,” I barely breathe.

He holds a hand up to his ear. “What was that?”

I march up to him, tempted to slap him across the face. I give him a drop dead stare, hoping he can see how angry he’s making me, but he only gives me a pleasant smirk in response, like my rage amuses him. “Please,” I say through my teeth, practically seething.

_ Rina one, Loki one. _

His smile widens. “Of course,” he says, mocking a bow. “Anything for you, Your Majesty. Follow me.”

And although I’m tempted to bury one of my knives in his back, I follow him through the lengthy maze of corridors, all the way to the unused, unguarded, west exit. He gestures towards the rickety, wooden doors that are covered in cobwebs.

“This is an actual door to the palace?” I ask.

He nods. “I don’t think it’s been used in fifty years.”

“Why not?”

“What’s the point?” he says with a shrug. “The front doors are much easier, and there’s dozens of more secretive exits than this one. Besides, this door leads straight into the least populated parts of the city.”

Well, at least I had the right idea about coming to this exit. I suck in a deep breath, reaching towards the door. My fingers close around the handle, its metal cold in my hand, and I pull. Somehow, the door doesn’t fall apart, even though it looks as though a light breeze could make it crumble. 

The outside wind whips in through the opening, curling around my body and making me shiver. I pull the door open all of the way, revealing the tall, stone castle wall. I look out to the left, and see a brittle ladder scaling the wall. My way out.

I turn to Loki. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

He grins. “I would expect nothing less.”

I look back out the door, the air like a cold hand wrapping around me. I can’t help but picture the people on the other side of that wall, their spiteful cries and their angry expressions. 

They’ve already tried to kill me once. If I go out there alone, at night, will they try it again? Will they succeed this time?

“Are you going to go?” Loki asks. “Or are you just going to stare at the wall all night?”

“I’m going to go,” I say, not bothering to think of a snippy comment, too consumed by my worries.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him watching me. I pray that he can’t see the war going on in my head, but knowing him, I won’t have to speak a word of my concerns for him to know them. He straightens, clearing his throat. “You know, I could use some fresh air.”

I blink, looking over at him. “What?”

He shrugs. “It’s been a while since I was outside of these walls without a guard.”

_ Did he just offer to go with me? Did he just do something nice?  _ And as much as I want to instantly refuse his offer, I really don’t want to go out there alone. So I keep my face neutral, and nod. I walk outside, and hear him follow, my heart doing flips in my chest.

I wrap my cloak tighter around myself to block out the wind, stopping at the foot of the ladder. “You go first,” I say to Loki.

“Why? So I can be attacked first?”

“No, so you can’t look up my dress,” I say simply, leaving the god speechless. The corners of his mouth turn slightly upwards, but he just shakes his head and climbs the ladder.

I keep a look out while he climbs, watching for any guards who would stop us. When the metal of the ladder stops shaking, I know he’s reached the top. I place my hands on the cold metal, the chill sending a slight shudder through me, and pull myself off of the ground. The wall can’t be more than fifteen feet tall, and I reach the top in a matter of seconds. Loki crouches at the top, staying low to avoid any onlookers.

I mimic his stance, staying as low as I can, and survey our surroundings. Below us is a garden, full of beautiful flowers and stone paths. To the right is a large lake that reflects the twinkling light of the stars, and to our left, a sparse, dark part of the city lies. But between us and the ground lies fifteen feet of open air.

My heart lurches and I swallow, suddenly remembering that I’m terrified of heights.  _ How are we going to get down? _

“Didn’t think this part through, did you?” Loki asks me.

I push aside my fears and roll my eyes. “Neither did you,” I point out.

“Actually,” he says, “I have an idea. But you’re going to need to trust me.”

“Then I guess that idea is out of the question.”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “It’ll be fun. And we don’t have very many options right now.”

I sigh. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

He smiles dangerously, and I begin to regret agreeing. In one swift movement, he crouches, facing the outside world, and jumps off of the wall.

I gasp. “Loki!” I hiss, trying to keep my voice quiet. I peer over the edge, expecting his body to be broken in a heap on the ground below.

I catch sight of him. My panic vanishes, and I immediately roll my eyes. He looks up at me, perfectly whole and on his feet, holding his hands over his heart. 

“You do care,” he coos. “How sweet.”

“I don’t care,” I correct. “I just didn’t want to be a witness to your suicide.”

He laughs, and I can’t help but smile slightly. “Your turn,” he calls.

My eyes widen. “No, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll catch you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I insist. “You’re not strong enough.”

He narrows his eyes. “I take offence to that.”

“Well, it’s true. And I’m not going to fall fifteen feet and break my legs because of you.”

“Honestly, Rina,” he says. “I’m a god, and you’re half my size. I think I can manage.”

I bite my tongue. Light Elves are naturally agile, and a jump like this shouldn’t be that much of a stretch for me, especially if Loki will be there to cushion my fall.

But it’s so high…

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I promise I’ll catch you. I give you my word.”

“Your word doesn’t mean very much to me,” I point out.

He nods, laughing. “Valid.” He walks closer to the wall, positioning himself in the perfect spot to catch me. “Then you’ll just have to trust me.”

I draw a slow breath, willing my hands to stop shaking. I have to get over this wall, and Loki’s insane idea might just be my only option. It’s high, yes. But not high enough to kill me. 

What do I have to lose?

_ Your legs,  _ my brain reminds me.

True. But maybe, just this once, I can choose to trust him.

“Okay,” I call, unable to keep the quiver out of my voice.

Loki holds out his arms. “On the count of three,” he says. “One, two, three!”

I don’t allow myself to think. I just close my eyes tight, and jump.

I gasp as the wind roars in my ears, floating weightless in the sky. I feel a sickening drop in my stomach as I fall freely, the air snapping around me. I yelp in alarm, picturing the excruciating pain of broken legs.

And then I jolt to a stop, my rapid descent halted by the arms underneath me. There isn’t an ounce of pain, the arms giving way slightly to absorb my fall. I release a harsh breath, and open my eyes slowly.

Loki stares down at me, his eyes brimming with intrigue. “There,” he says softly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He holds me close, and I know he can feel the way my limbs shake with the remnants of my nerves. But he doesn’t mention it. We just share a glance that lasts a lifetime.

I did it. I jumped. I trusted him, and nothing bad happened.

And in that moment, while he holds me to his chest, I can’t seem to remember why I hate him. He may have threatened me, but he never followed through. He had nothing to do with Aldon’s death, even when he had every motivation. He stitched me up when nobody else even knew I was injured. He saved me embarrassment when he stopped me from drinking. He somehow managed to be my comfort in the square, when the world was raging around me, and I needed someone to cling to.

Why do I hate him again?

_ Because he’s cruel,  _ I remind myself.  _ He wants you dead. He always has.  _

I remember myself, tearing my eyes away and clearing my throat. He sets me down gently, and I suddenly feel the undeniable urge to fill the silence. “I’m afraid of heights,” I mumble, smoothing out my dress. 

He smirks. “I know.”

“Of course you do,” I sigh, but a small smile traces my lips.

I start towards the city, hoping to wander the streets for a while, until I finally get enough mental clarity to fathom sleep. “Wait,” Loki says. He steps in front of me, pulling the hood of my cloak back over my hair. It must have blown off when I jumped. He tucks a runaway strand of hair behind my ear, and the gesture is so tender and out of character, I can’t help but blush.

“Um, what about you?” I ask, keeping my composure. “Someone will recognize you.”

He considers this. “You’re right.” He walks fifty feet over to the nearest house, the building small and hollow, completely abandoned. A frayed clothesline hangs beside, dangling between two rusty poles. A dozen articles of clothing are thrown over the line, wavering lightly in the wind. Loki reaches up, pulling down a plain square of brown burlap material, big enough to cover a small bed. He drapes the sheet over his head, wrapping it around his body to cover his royal attire, and comes waddling back over to me.

“That’s stealing,” I chastise, although I don’t really care.

“I don’t think anyone will miss this,” he counters. “That house has been empty since before I was born.”

I wrinkle my nose, looking at the dusty, ancient piece of cloth. “That’s gross.”

He shrugs. “Are we just going to stand around and argue about a worthless piece of burlap?”

I smile, shaking my head, and start towards the city again.


End file.
